The Same Disease
by Mendeia
Summary: The Death-Knell of Silence Part 2: As the four turtles settle into their temporary life in Usagi's world, they face challenges and changes. But while Leo is trying to become an honorable Heir, Donnie discovers that what made him exceptional in a modern society now makes him an outcast. Can brothers hold on to each other when everything is pulling them apart?
1. Compromise

Welcome to Act 2!

Enjoy!

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Chapter 1: Compromise

* * *

"Well." Leonardo drew himself up and offered a proper bow. "I guess this is goodbye."

Beside him, Donatello, Raphael, and Michelangelo also bowed.

"Take care of yourselves," Don said as they straightened up.

"Yeah. And good luck out there," Mikey added.

"Just watch out for trouble on the road," Raph said, scowling slightly. "It ain't safe all the time."

Across from them, Shuo Katsu and newly-named Shuo Akako returned the bow.

"Thank you all for your generosity," Shuo Katsu said when he rose. "We could not ask for better friends during such a trying time."

"And thank you for your warning," Shuo Akako said. "We will be very careful."

"I'm sorry there isn't more I can do for you," Leo said.

Shuo Katsu shook his head. "Do not trouble yourself, Hamato-sama. You have done more than I ever could have expected."

The turtles exchanged glances. In their opinion, sparing the life of someone who wasn't a murderer, putting up an absolutely tiny bridal gift so Akako could go to her husband without being empty-handed, and giving the pair a few basics to help them in their journey was not equal to such praise. But Leonardo's position as Heir meant he could not act in any way beyond his authority, nor could he even imply a loss of face by the Daimyo by treating Akako better than a valued subject. The turtles had stretched the line of what they could offer without showing an incorrect amount of favoritism, but it still felt wanting to them.

However, Shuo Katsu and Shuo Akako were both clearly surprised and deeply grateful for the meager offerings from the Hamato Clan; Akako, when no one was looking, had gripped each of their hands and wept. With the supplies and a bit of money and goods along with the light cart made lighter by Donatello's own hand, the couple would be able to travel to a new region and a new town where they could begin their lives together away from the ugly events that shrouded them here.

"When you get settled, send us a postcard or something," Mikey said, before he was cut off by a yawn. He probably intended to say more but was stopped, as usual, by the pre-dawn hour of the send-off.

The pair exchanged slightly confused glances, and Katsu gave a shrug. "We will certainly write to you when we have established ourselves."

"Should you ever wish for kimono, you need only ask," Akako added. "It will be my honor to make anything you should require."

Don smiled at her. "Thanks for making me a new one." He tugged on his purple sleeves. "And I'm still sorry I ruined the first one."

"A worthy sacrifice for a worthy life," Katsu said, meeting Donatello's eyes. "Without you, we would not stand here now."

Raph reached over and scruffed Don's head. "That's our little Donnie, getting in trouble and saving the day."

Don coughed and blushed slightly.

Leo chuckled and dipped his head to the pair of otters. "We won't keep you from getting started. Farewell and good fortune to you both."

Shuo Katsu and Shuo Akako turned, Katsu taking up the poles of the cart. Side-by-side, they headed down the road, walking in the opposite direction the turtles had traveled when they found Katsu, the low morning sun throwing long shadows out ahead of them on the road. The village was quiet, but those who were up and out nodded in passing, politely if not with friendliness, as the pair at the center of so much tragedy departed.

When they were out of sight, Mikey yawned and stretched his arms out wide, smacking into Raph and Don as he did.

"So, back to bed?" he asked. Raph shoved at him and Don rolled his eyes.

Leo shook his head. "Nope. It's time for practice."

Raph frowned at him. "Since _when_?"

"Since we need to get back in the habit of training together, and now we can finally do it as a team." Leo pointed to where Don wore his bo tucked in his belt for the first time since falling ill. "And Donnie's finally well enough not to sound like he's wheezing to death after moving around for a few minutes."

Mikey tipped his head to Don. "Are you really feeling up for it, bro?"

Don nodded. "I've been fully mobile for a week now. I probably don't have a whole lot of endurance, but I should be good for at least a few rounds. And I'm sick of being sick!"

That won him three smiles.

"The brainiac has spoken!" Mikey flung an arm around his shoulders. "Plus, I haven't had a chance to kick Raph's shell in _forever_!"

"We'll see who kicks whose shell, Mike!" Raph shot back.

Leo led the way back through the main gate and around the wall. By now, navigating inside the castle felt as natural as breathing; he could barely remember being confused by its layout. At one of the points most distant from the keep there was a large, open area that had been reserved for weapons drilling and combat practice. Leo had specifically requested the use of it for his own family in the morning, so no one was around to watch.

Even as they reached the practice ring, however, there was a hesitance they could all feel. They removed their kimono and other layers slowly, awkwardly, having difficulty looking at the empty ring before them.

Leo swallowed thickly. "Sensei would want us to do this even without him. He'll be disappointed when he wakes up if we've let our training go."

"You ain't wrong, but...it don't feel right," Raph said, kicking at something only he could see on the ground.

"I know."

Michelangelo looked at the grief and worry on his brothers' faces and decided that was not a good way to start the morning. So he promptly moved into the open space and struck a pose.

Donatello, expecting something like this from Mikey – after all, he knew his orange-banded brother worked hard to raise the family's spirits in bad times – smiled at him. "What are you up to now, you goofball?"

"There's only one way to figure out if this is a big enough arena to hold my awesomeness!"

Leo and Raph were looking up with a little more hope.

"What's that?" Don asked.

"The Mikey Dance!"

And before anyone could stop him, Michelangelo burst out into The Mikey Dance, a horrific compilation of moves inspired by pop songs, everything from "Single Ladies" and "Gangnam Style" to "U Can't Touch This" and "Tootsie Roll" with a few steps borrowed from the Macarena and the Electric Slide. It also had associated lyrics which Michelangelo proceeded to belt out at the top of his lungs, mashing up the words into a string of nonsense. The Mikey Dance had been born after a late night when Mikey couldn't sleep and instead learned the "Thriller" dance and he had been adding to it ever since.

Raph groaned loudly and smacked his head, covering his face. "I hope nobody sees this."

Leo looked as though he had swallowed a frog. "Me too."

"On the bright side," Donatello said with a grin, "he's right! The dimensions of the current Mikey Dance do nicely gauge the space for length, width, and height similar to what we need for practice."

Raph glared at him. "It's an open-air dirt patch big enough to play basketball in! Of _course_ it's big enough!"

"A good scientist always appreciates independent verification," Don told him.

Mikey paused his singing while at the top of an impressive leap from "Shake It Off" to punch the air triumphantly. "Thanks, bro!"

Finally, Leo shook his head and gave in to the small smile pulling at his mouth. "At least he'll be warmed up."

A few minutes of genuine turtle silliness later, Mikey finished, landing dramatically in a pose like a gymnast. He didn't wait for any applause – not that he expected any – and immediately began bowing. "Thank you! Thank you! The Battle Nexus _and_ Dance Champion thanks you!"

Raph began to growl, but Leo cut him off. "Come on. Let's get to work."

But Don saw that some of the strain was gone from Leo and Raph, and he winked at Mikey. "Nice job."

When the four turtles settled into position, following Leo as he led them through some easy katas to begin, they did so without the air of despair that came from an empty spot where Master Splinter should have been.

Leo took his brothers through a few different forms, nothing too strenuous and nothing new, but enough to ground them in their training. Then he called for one-on-one combat, pitting Raph and Mikey against one another in hand-to-hand while he watched and counted the points they scored on one another. It also gave Donatello a few minutes to rest; Leo hadn't missed that his recently-ill brother was breathing harder than usual.

Raph and Mikey traded blows and insults about evenly as they were both fairly matched in hand-to-hand combat. Both were close-in fighters when they carried their weapons, and both were athletic, though in opposite ways: Raph was a brawler who relied on brute strength, and Mikey was an acrobat who utilized his agility. However, Mikey's tendency to dodge Raph's attacks and then taunt him had the predictable result of eventually irritating Raph into forgetting the form he was supposed to be using and just trying to pummel his brother.

Before that could get too far out of hand, Leo called a halt and set them to opposite sides to cool down – in more way than one – and then invited Don to face him.

"Just take it easy," Leo said, bowing to Don. "Don't push yourself."

"I know. But don't go easy on me just because I might be tired," Don said, quirking a smile. "I'll never live it down."

Leo nodded. "If you say so. Begin!"

Weaponless fighting was different for Leonardo and Donatello. In Leo's case, he had made a genuine attempt to master virtually every form of martial arts over the years, and master them all flawlessly. Though his blades were his primary and favorite weapon, he was deadly proficient with practically anything in his hands, and with no weapon at all.

But up until Leo's trip to the Ancient One, Donatello had been the best in the family at pure hand-to-hand fighting, at least in the dojo. In the real world, he tended to be distracted by other things like figuring out a solution to whatever problem they were facing; in the dojo, with nothing to draw his attention, Don was a marvel at weaponless combat.

The practical reason for that was simple – because his bo was apt to break, and regularly _did_ in the middle of pitched battles, Donatello had been forced to learn to defend himself empty-handed against opponents who weren't. For this reason, his tactics when battling without a weapon were largely geared towards defending himself and disarming his opponents before bringing them down.

However, today Donatello was not pushing himself as hard as he could, knowing that avoiding a relapse was his primary responsibility even before proving himself to be an honorable combatant against his brother. He defended himself skillfully but did not push his advantages to try to actually defeat Leo.

Leonardo watched Don closely, not just to read his next move and counter it, but for signs of weakness or difficulty. He could see that Don was paying sharp attention to his body, breathing slow and deep even in the midst of hard strikes and blows, but he could sense his brother's flagging energy long before Don's moves began to slow.

When Donatello drew back into purely defensive work, making virtually no attempt to attack at all, Leo knew his brother had reached his limits. But he also guessed Don wouldn't just stop without actually being beaten.

Leo changed tactics in midair, adjusting a low snap-kick and turning it into a leg-sweep at the last moment, one Don couldn't respond to quick enough to keep from ending up on his shell in the dirt.

Don hit the ground and let out an explosive breath, flopping his arms and head down limply. "Okay. You made your point." Then he gave into the urge to cough, letting out a loud, angry rattle that felt like it came from his very toes.

Leo smiled and offered him a hand. "You did good, though."

"For being as weak as a day-old kitten." Don accepted the hand.

"Give yourself more credit," Leo said, hauling Don to his feet. "At least a month-old kitten."

"Gosh. _Thanks_ , Leo." He coughed again.

Mikey, already heading towards them, burst out laughing at Don's drawling sarcasm. "Hey, I'd vote for you, Donnie!"

"Yeah, because even if he were still unconscious he could kick your shell," Raph said from the other side.

"It'll come back," Leo said, patting Don's shoulder. "Give yourself time to heal and you'll be fine."

"Speaking of which, I better get back," Don said, ducking his head from his brothers' eyes and taking a deep, controlled breath, willing the coughing to go away forever. "Master Splinter will be due for herbs right about now, and so am I."

Leo nodded. "We'll see you later, okay?"

"Yup. Thanks for the workout." And Don strode off, gathering up his bo, kimono, and other clothing at the edge of the arena on his way; he didn't bother to dress because he was still sweating and didn't want to ruin the expensive fabrics. Behind him, Leo had decided on a three-way bout with weapons for those turtles who weren't off their game, and before he'd even turned the next corner he could hear the crash of steel.

Donatello rotated his shoulders and suppressed the urge to cough yet again. _Feels like I just went a couple rounds with Shredder. No kidding it's going to be a while before I'm up to speed._

He paused as he saw Sato Takeko approaching. "Good morning." He greeted her with a bow.

Sato did not quite look down her nose at him, but she still managed to bow and express displeasure at the same time. "Good morning, Kame-san."

"If you're looking for Leo, he's practicing with Raph and Mikey. But you can interrupt them if you need to." Don tried to keep his voice pitched for friendliness. "Just don't sneak up on them."

"Sneaking is a dishonorable _ninja_ skill," she said. Then she strode past Donatello without another word.

 _And apparently rudeness is a samurai skill,_ he thought. But there was no point in worrying about it, so he shrugged it off and made his way back to the inkhouse that still served as Master Splinter's room.

The castle keep had been cleaned thoroughly even before Don had woken, but it was easier and less painful to keep Master Splinter here; they had learned that moving one afflicted with this particular poison was agonizing. Don didn't remember the one attempt the healers had made to carry himself into the keep, but even Usagi wouldn't meet his eyes when they told him about it.

Donatello _had_ been awake for the Daimyo's transfer into the keep, though, and he figured he would probably hear those shaky screams in his nightmares for months.

Don knocked on the door before he entered to keep from startling Usagi. "Any change?" he asked as he always did.

Usagi shook his head. "No, Donatello-san. I take it all went well?"

"Yep." Donatello hung his kimono over the back of a chair with his other clothing and made his way to the table to prepare an infusion of herbs. "Shuo Katsu and Akako are on their way. And Leo decided to reinstitute morning practice. They're still at it, if you want to go watch or join in."

Usagi's eyebrows went up. "You do not believe they would object?"

Don turned to him. "No way. First of all, you've been cooped up in here with Splinter all morning, which isn't fair since it really isn't your problem."

Usagi held up a hand. "Master Splinter is an honored ally and mentor. His well-being is as much my business as it would be were I beholden to him."

Don smiled at that. "Okay. Second of all, since I'm still on the mend, I didn't give Leo much of a workout. It'll be a while before they can really do any drills. I'm sure he'd appreciate a challenge."

"And you do not mind?"

Don shook his head, returning his attention to the herbs. "Why should I? Go for it. Have a blast. See if you can kick Leo's shell for me."

Usagi rose, stepping close to Donatello's side to put a hand on his shoulder. "I will do my best to battle your brother in your stead, my friend."

"And don't be surprised – Mikey's in a singing mood this morning."

"A... _singing_ mood?"

"You'll see."

Usagi snorted. "Undoubtedly I will. Then I will take you up on your generous offer. I will see you for the morning meal, Donatello-san."

"Good luck!"

Don finished his work with the dose of herbs, grinding them into a fresh paste. He then added some mint leaves to the mixture, crushing them and folding them in. The healers agreed that the mint would not lessen or dilute the herbs, but they certainly improved the taste of the concoction. And having had to consume it multiple times a day, Donatello knew how badly it needed its taste improved. Then he poured two cups of hot water and stirred a scoop of honey into each.

While those steeped, Donatello piled his dose of herbs onto a large, flat spoon and swallowed them in one thick lump. Then he added more water to the remaining herbs, watering them down even more thoroughly to make them easier for Splinter to drink. He set the bowl of herbs and both cups of honey water on a tray and carried them all to his father's bedside.

"Master? Time for medicine."

Donatello knew that his Sensei was not actually awake and might not be able to hear the cheerful talk, but he did it anyway. After all, Don also knew his father was very skilled at reaching states of awareness independent of the body, and for all he could tell, Master Splinter heard and saw everything around himself while he healed.

"I added a little more mint this time. I thought it helped. See if you agree."

Donatello carefully placed a hand behind his father's head and lifted it slowly, making sure not to twist his neck in any way. Rolled nearby was a length of discarded material, which he tucked beneath Splinter's head to support it.

As he adjusted the rat's position, Splinter's eyes blinked open and closed. But there was no spark of recognition in them and Donatello had learned not to expect it. Usagi had told him that he had done something similar himself for days before returning to full consciousness. However, it did signify that his father's body was awake enough to swallow without difficulty.

Donatello started up a running commentary, chattering aimlessly about the morning's practice, seeing off Shuo Katsu and Akako, and whatever else came to mind – just in case his father was listening.

With a spoon that could barely have held a cube of sugar, he ladled the mixture of herbs into his father's mouth, pausing between each until he could feel Splinter's throat working to drink down the small amounts. He did not rush, knowing how easy it was for Splinter to choke on even the tiniest morsel, and patiently worked until the bowl had been scraped clean. By that time, the cups of hot water and honey had cooled enough for him to repeat the procedure with one while he drank his own between spoonfuls.

When everything was safely in Splinter's stomach and there was no chance of choking or vomiting, Donatello carefully lowered his father's head back to the flat pillow on the mat. He cleaned up his dishes and put them away. Then he returned to Splinter and carefully stretched and massaged his body for a while, trying to avoid bedsores or injury from being unable to move for so long. He had changed the bedding with one of the other healers just the night before, so there wasn't much else he could do for his father.

Don sighed at Splinter's emaciated form. "I hope you wake up soon, Sensei. I can't imagine how weak you will be if this goes on much longer."

A knock came on the door. "Kame-san?"

"Come in!" Don called.

A cat guard entered, making a quick bow and shutting the door behind himself. "I have come to relieve you so you may attend the morning meal if you wish."

"Oh. Thanks." Don turned back to Splinter to ensure the sheet was tucked in well and there was no other visible change. He gave his father a proper bow – even if Splinter were not awake to receive it, Donatello felt it helped somehow – and rose from his place.

When he started to move towards the door, however, suddenly Don's gut lurched.

 _Something's wrong._

As adrenaline crashed into his system, Don's mind sped up. He looked over the guard with the appraising eye he had gained from a lifetime of surviving countless dangerous situations. But nothing seemed out of place.

 _Not what's there. It's what's not there._

"You know," Don said, casually shifting as he maneuvered around the other sleeping pallet and also brought himself to a spot between the guard and Splinter, "usually a healer relieves me. I think I'll wait until one gets here. You can take your post outside if you want."

"Honda Ryome gave me instructions to remain inside," the guard answered. "The healers are dealing with the Daimyo at the moment and one will be along shortly. Do not worry. I will watch over your Master until a healer arrives."

There came the sound of a low gong, the signal that the day's first meal was being served to those guards and others in the castle who were not on duty.

The cat guard tipped his head. "You should go quickly or you will not get a full bowl, Kame-san."

"I'm not feeling very hungry this morning."

Donatello could feel it, the snap in the air when the guard realized that the ploy had failed.

The cat guard-who-was-not-a-guard smiled very slightly and took a step to more fully block the door. "Surrender now and your death will be painless." He brandished the blade he carried.

"What do you want?" Don asked, playing for time while he ran through his options in his head.

"I will tell you nothing. The rules of my Clan demand it."

"You're a Neko Clan ninja," Don concluded. "So either you're here because Lord Hebi is still mad at Leo and Usagi, or you're here because Lord Nezumi is mad at us."

The ninja said nothing. But he adjusted his stance slightly, enough to show he was ready to spring and attack at any moment.

And Don had not yet pulled his bo.

"I'm going to bet it's Nezumi," Don said, his heart beating fast but his body calm and relaxed. "How upset was he when he figured out that his little magic trick wasn't what killed the former Daimyo? Talk about a waste of time. All that effort into a wizard who didn't even succeed."

"You will not distract me," the Neko said. "You are ninja. I know your tricks for they are my own."

"Yeah, I bet you know some of them. But, trust me," Don smiled a little, sliding one hand to his belt, "I've fought _way_ better ninja than you."

The Neko scowled. "You cannot defeat me without leaving your Master open to attack. If you surrender, you will die an easy death."

Don made one more tiny movement. "Wanna bet?"

And exploded into motion.

He hooked one foot under the sleeping mat at his side and kicked it up into the air while with his opposite hand he grabbed a pair of smoke pellets and flung them to the ground. As the thick, concealing smoke filled the room, Don spun and tossed the airborne sleeping mat onto Splinter to provide some cover. He had not even fully emerged from the spin before he launched himself at the Neko, drawing his bo.

Donatello could not hear the Neko ninja moving, but he hadn't expected to – he had guessed the Neko was as familiar with working in concealment as himself. But he didn't need to hear ninja to find them; he needed only sense them.

 _There!_

With the heightened awareness that Master Splinter had drilled into his sons for years, Donatello located the enemy in the smoke and charged for him on silent feet. He swept his bo out laterally hoping to catch the Neko's head and knock him out, but he felt his bo parried ably. Without allowing the ninja any time to recover, he struck again, keeping a part of his awareness focused on where he had tried to protect his Sensei behind him.

 _I have to keep him from reaching Master Splinter._

The Neko deflected his second strike and returned one with the speed of a viper.

 _Much better than the usual Foot goons, though that's not saying much._

Don caught the slashing blade with his bo and gave a sharp twist, hoping to disarm his opponent. He had only a moment's warning before a foot came at him from out of the smoke, landing a firm kick to his plastron.

Normally, such a blow wouldn't even have slowed Don down.

But between the angle of the kick, the smoke in the air, Don's still-recovering body, and the fact that he had already pushed himself in training only a short time before, the blow caused Don's lungs to seize up.

He felt like he was choking.

 _But if I go down, Sensei will be vulnerable._

In spite of the burning in his chest, Donatello did not collapse as his body wanted. He did stumble a step back, but he kept his bo up and forced his legs to hold him.

Suddenly the door slammed open. " _Donnie_!"

Raphael's voice, tinged with rage and fear, had never been so welcome.

With the door open, the smoke began to clear. Don retreated another two steps until he was standing at the edge of his father's bedding. He sensed three familiar forms charging into the smoke.

Then there was an audible thump.

"Got one," Leo said. "Don, can you hear me? Are there any more?"

Don opened his mouth to call back and his chest rebelled, leaving him coughing painfully.

Then there was a weight around his shoulders. "I gotcha, Donnie," Mikey said. He pulled his brother close with one arm while he left the other out in front, nunchaku swinging defensively.

Don's eyes were watering and his chest burned, but he managed, "Just...that one."

"Sure you got 'im, Leo?" Raph asked, drawing closer to Don and Mikey.

"I'm sure." There was a stony finality to those words that would have bothered Don if he weren't too busy thinking about not coughing up a lung.

"Is Master Splinter okay?" Mikey asked as he caught his nunchaku and put it back in his belt.

Don took in a new breath to try to answer but then Raph was there. "Don't talk, brainiac. I'll check on him."

Don coughed some more and just nodded, grateful for Mikey's solidness against which to lean. Mikey held him still while Raph ducked behind them and uncovered their father from the heavy mat Don had tossed onto him.

Leo appeared in the fading smoke. "Are you okay, Donnie?"

Don nodded. "Sure," he wheezed between coughs. "Fantastic." Then, "Good timing."

"We got ambushed," Mikey said. "We were heading off to breakfast and a whole bunch of guards came at us. No sweat, of course."

"How'd…?" Don began, but he gave up when his voice broke.

Leo drew closer. "I noticed one of the ninja who attacked us was wearing the insignia of the guard who was supposed to be posted outside your door. We left Usagi to handle the prisoners and came running."

"Master's okay," Raph reported. "There's two darts stuck in this mat you threw over him, Don, but they didn't get through. Good thinking."

"That's why Don's a genius!" Mikey squeezed him. Then he sobered. "Did you get darted?"

Don shook his head.

"The coughing is just residual from you being sick, right?" Leo asked.

Don nodded. When Leo put a hand on his plastron, he closed his eyes at the warmth of his brother's hand.

"Breathe easy, Donatello. In and out slowly. Let your body relax. The danger is over."

Leo's voice was low and almost hypnotic and Don let it wash over himself. He was safe. His brothers wouldn't let anything happen to him or to their Sensei. With that certainty in his mind, he started calming his body down.

By the time there were shouts from outside the door, Don had stopped trying to explode his lungs and the air was clear enough that he could breathe without trouble.

"Young Lord! Are you all right?"

"Go on, Fearless," Raph said. "Go do your thing. We got this."

Leo hesitated, looking between where Splinter was still prone on the ground – though the only outward sign of the entire affair was that his sheet was slightly mussed from being bunched under the mat – and where Don had sat on the ground between Raph and Mikey, working on regaining his energy now that his breathing was behaving itself.

"I'll double the guard here," he said. "Triple, maybe."

"Nothing's going to happen while we're here," Mikey said. "But if you wanted to send some breakfast over, that'd be nice." He didn't mention the body at the other end of the room.

Leo gave a small smile. "Okay. I'll do that, too." He bent down and squeezed Donatello's shoulder. "You did good, bro. I'm proud of you."

Don half-smiled, but he raised an eye-ridge. "Unless you've forgotten, I _am_ actually a ninja, not a nursemaid. It was only one guy."

"Nonetheless, you did well. I'd expect nothing else." Leo straightened and nodded to them once in farewell before he turned to stride out the door to the clamoring crowd who needed to be reassured that the Heir was unhurt. He had barely stepped outside when a pair of real guards entered to remove the Neko's corpse.

When Leo was well out of earshot, Raph pounded a fist into his other hand. "Whoever sent these guys is gonna _pay_ for goin' after Master Splinter!"

"I think it was Nezumi," Don said. "It could be that Lord Hebi that Leo tangled with the last time, but Nezumi has a stronger motive to want us out of the way or take revenge and then go back to trying to unseat the Daimyo."

"But he didn't have any ninja fighting when we were dealing with his troops on the border," Mikey said.

Raph nodded. "Then he figured out he can't win that way. So he's coming after us on our own turf."

"What are we gonna do?" Mikey asked.

Don shrugged. "This is as much a political thing as a fight. Leo will have to talk to the Daimyo about how they want to deal with it. We can't just go off and make things worse. We don't want to start a war between the hans before we go home."

"Well, I hope I get at least one shot at that weasel," Raph grumbled.

Mikey poked him. "How do you know he's a weasel? He could be anything!"

"Whatever else he is, he's still a weasel, just like you're still a shellhead," Raph shot back.

Don huffed a laugh. "Calling him a weasel might be insulting to any good weasels who live here. Maybe you should come up with another way to annoy him."

"Oh I already got one of those," Raph told him. "I'll just sic Mikey on him."

Michelangelo grinned. "My powers of annoyance span the multiverse! Hey! I wonder if we could make a competition like the Battle Nexus but the Annoying Nexus. Or maybe the Super Awesome at Driving Bad Guys Crazy Nexus. I wonder if I'd be a Champion then, too, like how I'm a Battle Nexus Champion!"

Don and Raph both sighed. "You would!"

-==OOO==-

It wasn't until dinnertime that Don, Raph, and Mikey could catch up to Leonardo. With Usagi taking a shift along with three guards and a healer to protect Splinter, the three turtles managed to drag Leo away from all the things demanding his attention and pinned him down in a small room to eat together.

"What do you want to know first?" Leo asked, pretending not to be annoyed at having been practically abducted by his own brothers.

"Who sent those goons?" Raph asked at once.

"Nezumi. We're almost certain of it," Leo said. "The survivors won't admit to it, but one was found with a small blade with Nezumi's mon on it, probably one he was supposed to leave sticking out of Lord Kawauso's chest."

"Or yours," Mikey pointed out. "They ambushed _us_ , dude, not the Daimyo."

Leo nodded. "True. Lord Kawauso and Honda Ryome and I believe this means that Nezumi is hoping to either drive me away or eliminate me so he can go back to his war with the Daimyo unimpeded."

"So what are we going to do about it?" Don wanted to know.

"We oughta go find that jerk of a Lord and teach him not to mess with turtles," Raph growled low in his chest.

But Leo held up a hand. "No bashing heads in this time, Raph. We have to handle this carefully. It was one thing when Shuo Katsu was trying to overthrow the Daimyo whose bloodline he shared. This is a conflict between two hans and it won't be as easy to resolve."

Don tipped his head. "Is the Daimyo going to bring this matter to the Shogun?"

Leo smiled at him. "Yes. He has already dispatched a trusted messenger to Edo. Sometimes the Shogun permits different Lords to compete for power or land, but sometimes he does not. Once we know if the Shogun is going to put a stop to Nezumi's attempts himself, we'll know what to do next."

"And until then we just sit around on our shells?" Mikey asked.

"Yes and no. On the one hand, other than holding the border against Nezumi's forces, we aren't going to confront him in any other way – at least for now. On the other, if Nezumi is willing to hire the Neko Clan to infiltrate the castle, he might be willing to do worse out in the han."

"Why would he bother messing with some villagers?" Raph frowned.

"A han's power and influence with the Shogun is directly proportional to the amount of rice it produces," Leo said. "If Nezumi can ruin a whole bunch of our rice production for the season, we'll lose favor with the Shogun and Nezumi will be able to argue that he ought to be permitted to unseat Lord Kawauso."

"And with Neko Clan ninja in the mix," Don said, "the villagers and even the samurai don't stand a chance."

"Exactly." Leo sighed. "That's why I think we have to do something. Until we hear from the Shogun, Nezumi's best bet is to either take me and the Daimyo out directly or ruin the rice production in our han before the next census. And I can't protect Lord Kawauso and the peasants at the same time."

"But we can," Raph said. "Me and Mikey can start patrolling the han like we did New York and stop any trouble we find."

"What about Donnie?" Michelangelo asked.

It was Don who shook his head. "I'm not healed enough yet. I'd be a liability in the field."

"But you can look after Master Splinter," Leo said.

"And I can watch your back, too," Don looked to his brother. "You've still got a big target painted on your shell, Leo."

Leonardo smiled. "Between you and me and Usagi and all of Honda Ryome's guards, I'm pretty sure we can handle whatever comes our way."

But Don crossed his arms. "I can see the logic of your idea, but I'm not sure I like it. We're always strongest when we're together."

"You said yourself you're not up to a journey, so at least you would have to stay behind even if I went with Mike and Raph," Leo said. "There's no help for it. We have to split up somehow."

Raph nodded. "I hate to admit it, but Fearless has a point. We've seen how bad the samurai are at handling ninja around here. Usagi can hold his own, but we could take out every other samurai in the castle in our sleep. No way the farmers are gonna see them coming."

"Plus we could go visit Mitsu! I mean Mitsu's village." Mikey gulped. "And see if we can help them. Maybe we'll be able to pay those bandits back for what they did, too."

"You just wanna see your _girlfriend_ again," Raph leaned into Mikey's face with a smirk.

"Do not!"

"Oh? Then _I'll_ go to her village and _you_ can go someplace else."

Mikey gasped. "No! I mean, no thanks. That's okay. We should stick together. Donnie's right."

Leo chuckled. "I'll talk to Honda Ryome tomorrow about finding you guys a better map or even a guide so we can set up a patrol route. I'll want you to swing by the castle as often as possible on your circuit, at least once a week."

Mikey and Raph exchanged glances and then saluted.

"And if you see any force bigger than what you can handle, you _do not engage_." Leo pinned them with his gaze. "If Nezumi sneaks a ninja army into the han, we'll need to handle it with more than just the pair of you."

Donatello looked at Raph, then turned to Leo doubtfully. "You really think the original hothead won't charge into any fight even against a hundred Neko?"

"Not if he knows what's good for him," Leo said, and he drew himself up and leaned forward, his most intimidating glare fixed on his face. "I am trusting you with Michelangelo's safety as well as your own, Raphael. If you go headfirst into a fight you can't get out of, both of you will pay for it. I won't be able to come bail you out this time."

Raph bristled, but he met Leo's eyes evenly. "I give you my word of honor, I won't get into a fight I can't win."

"Really?" Leo pressed.

"Really." Raph rolled his eyes. "If I do and you hear about it, I'll have to deal with you lecturing at me for the rest of my life and I've had enough of your lectures for about twenty lifetimes."

"You'd think being Heir and having to give all those speeches to the Daimyo's guards would make you better at it," Mikey said. "Less boring, at least."

"Practice does make perfect," Don said.

"And I ain't gonna give you any more practice," Raph said. "Deal?"

Leo nodded, fighting a smile. "Deal. I accept your word of honor. But if you don't keep it, you're going to get the longest, most boring lecture I can think of, and then I'll turn you over to Sensei when he wakes up."

All three of the other turtles shuddered. The only thing worse than an endless Leonardo Lecture was the combination of Disappointed Sensei Face and Splinter's corporal punishments.

As they settled in to eat a bit, Mikey shot Don a glance. "Master Splinter _is_ gonna be okay, right?"

Don gave a half-shrug. "I think so. He's looking a little better every day, and all his vitals are good. I've been speculating that he's sort of hibernating while he heals, if that makes sense. Conserving all his energy to rebuild what the poison damaged. I don't know how long it will take, but there's no reason I can find that he won't wake up when he's ready."

"Just keep an eye on him, brainiac," Raph said. "We're counting on you."

"I know. Try not to worry. And when he does wake up, I'll send you a message so you can come back and see him," Don said. "I know it made me feel better to see you when I woke up."

Leonardo smiled fondly at them. "I think he'll be proud of everything we're doing when he wakes up. We're certainly living up to the code he taught us. Fighting with honor, protecting the weak, serving the worthy."

"And saving damsels in distress," Mikey added, his eyes going soft and his gaze faraway.

"Saving them from having a goofball like you drooling over them, maybe!" Raph shoved at him.

Donatello exchanged glances with Leonardo. He could tell his brother was having thoughts very like his own.

 _It feels good to be here together being ourselves and it's going to be weirdly quiet around here with them gone. I'm going to miss those two while they're out protecting the land, but it won't be long before we hear from the Shogun. And then we'll be together again until we go home. And everything will be fine._

But a cloud tugged at Don's heart, a tendril of uncertainty.


	2. Curse

There's a part of this chapter which is very close to my heart. In the end, part of the reason this fandom has held me for so long is exactly what is discussed – that, in the end, the turtles are themselves without apologizing or shying away from all that it means. It's a lesson I had to teach myself time and again, and I'm still not always sure I've got it learned.

Also, just as a reminder, I'm still on the hunt for anyone who wants to do fanart for this series. I will trade spoilers and maybe even early chapters for art!

Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 2: Curse

* * *

The next three weeks passed slowly for Donatello.

As his strength continued to return and his propensity to cough when he was exercising decreased, he began to enjoy the morning training with Leonardo more and more – which Leo insisted on holding even though it was only the two of them. Occasionally Usagi would join in, but mostly it was just Leo and Don working through their skills together.

Of all the things Leo being Heir meant, Don was often the most grateful that their sparring sessions were kept private by his order; as he stumbled through recovery, Don didn't want anyone other than Usagi and his brother to see him at less than his best. But with each day, he felt better and coughed less and found his body reacting the way he expected it to, to his great relief.

Some of his recovery came less from the training and more from his other occupation, however.

While it was true that Donatello spent many hours of each day watching over Splinter and caring for him, such enforced inactivity was like slow torture. Don was used to spending days largely motionless, of course, but then it was because he was in front of a computer or in his lab working on something that challenged his intellect and fulfilled his interests. After the day Don actually found himself wishing for another ninja attack just so he'd have something to do, he realized he needed to go find himself a new hobby.

With Leo's permission, Don approached the castle's forge and the metal- and swordsmiths who worked there. They were initially very resistant to his presence as he was the brother of the Heir and a warrior – and metalwork was a function well below the station of the samurai class. But Don persevered, asking questions and making observations until the pair of bears and the stolid bull who worked in the forge finally agreed to teach him their craft.

From that point on, Donatello spent every waking minute he wasn't tending to Splinter or sparring with Leo at the forge. It wasn't as inherently interesting as computer engineering or biochemistry, but metalwork was at the heart of most of Don's building and he found the familiar hands-on practice soothing.

Though he did miss his welding tools. Forge welding took much longer without a proper blow torch, and after two disastrous attempts, Don stopped trying to make one from feudal supplies.

On the other hand, working with the castle's swordsmiths gave Donatello a great deal of insight into weapons-craft. He had been able to approximate repairs to Leo's swords and Raph's sai in the past, but the truth was that any fix he made was sort of the metallic equivalent of holding it together with bubblegum; he'd never had the proper kiln or developed the skill to actually reforge a sword or craft the prongs of the sai correctly. When the turtles had been young, Splinter had stolen their first metal weapons for them. Later, after Don got the family online, they had ordered replacements and spares as needed for swords, sai, and nunchaku. Don's bo he always made himself with little trouble.

But now that Don could study with a master, he turned his brain and his focus into learning to properly forge all the weapons for the family. He reported to Leo one night with a face aglow with pride.

"It's one of the gaps in my skillset that could really have been a problem someday," he said. "Remember when the Shredder broke both your katana and tossed you through April's front window?"

"I'm not likely to forget," Leo had said with a raised eye-ridge.

"Well, then you remember how hard you and Raph worked to reforge them in the barn up in Northampton. But even then, they were fragile where the join in the metal was. You could use them to practice, but not to fight."

"I know. We had to wait until you ordered me a set online and got them delivered before we could take on the Foot again."

"Exactly! And with what we knew and the supplies we had, you and Raph did a great job. But with what I'm learning now, if that happened again, I could just make them. We wouldn't have to count on having enough money to buy more."

Leo had patted him on the shoulder. "Whatever makes you happy, Donnie."

And it did. Besides being interesting and challenging and fulfilling Donatello's inherent need to learn and craft and experiment, it also helped him begin to rebuild his physical strength. Every day he could swing the heavy hammer a few more times, could bend the metal when it was cooler, could feed the fire for longer. The honest sweat that ran down his plastron felt like release, as though it was washing the last effects of the poison out of his body.

Of course, the very first sword Don made was horribly unbalanced, curved weirdly to the left, and might have shattered while slicing cheese, but it still made him profoundly happy.

That happiness, however, was constantly challenged by the people around him.

While the metalsmiths ultimately accepted Donatello's interest in their arts, the warriors of the castle were less impressed. Don hadn't realized how gossip-worthy his work was until he overheard something while hauling a bucket of fresh water to the inkhouse for Splinter two weeks after first entering the forge. He was just rounding the last corner when a conversation from the guards outside the inkhouse's door drifted to him. Don ducked against the wall to listen.

"The young Lord comports himself with great honor and dignity," one said. "I was concerned when they first came, but clearly at least one of them knows their place."

"Unlike the other."

"Yes. I wish he had gone away and one of his brothers remained instead. They show skill in combat and would never have debased themselves."

"Imagine a warrior grimy with soot from the forge! If the Shogun were to send an emissary, I think our entire han would die of shame."

"That the Daimyo has allowed it must be due to his own illness. In his right mind, Lord Kawauso would never permit such unnatural and unrefined behavior from any warrior within his lands, even a guest and brother of his Heir."

Donatello crept away, thinking.

Later, Usagi found him sitting against a sun-warmed wall in a far corner of the castle, distant from the keep and away from the usual patrols of the guards.

"May I join you?"

"Sure, Usagi."

"Forgive me for saying so, Donatello-san, but you seem troubled," he said.

Don sighed. "I overheard some talk today. Apparently working at the forge isn't _done_ for people like me. Being born into a warrior family means I can't be anything else, apparently."

Usagi was quiet for a moment before he spoke, "That is true of my world, yes. One's lineage determines one's path in life and one's vocation. But I understand that it is not so in your home dimension."

"No, it isn't. Where I'm from, we believe you can be whatever you want to be no matter where you come from." He smiled wryly. "Of course, most people wouldn't apply that to a mutant turtle, but it's still how I think. Besides, it's what I've always done. Building stuff, I mean."

"Does Leonardo-san object to your work at the forge?"

"No, he's fine with it. I think he knows I'd go nuts if I wasn't doing something productive."

"But the whispers of the others trouble you?"

"Yeah…" Don stopped, leaning back against the wall. Then he said, "Well, only a little. It's not like I'm not used to being thought of as a freak. Besides us being unique in our own world, I'm also pretty different from my brothers. I guess I don't care a _whole_ lot about the talking but…"

"It can be unsettling to be thought of as an outsider, an aberration," Usagi said.

Don glanced at him. "I bet you've got your own experience with that."

"You would be correct. To be ronin is to have little honor until it is won by demonstration."

"Is that what you think I should do?" Don asked. "Demonstrate that I can do it?"

"Honestly? I fear that will only somewhat alleviate your troubles. For one cannot be both warrior and smith in my world, nor warrior and scholar. A samurai is to have refined tastes and skills, yes, but he is not an intellectual equal to his prowess with his blade."

"You're saying that even if I make one shell of a good sword, it won't help?"

"I think if you made, as you say, an excellent sword, my people would believe that you are less of a warrior still, though they might respect you as a craftsman. You would, in their eyes, more honestly deserve your place with the artisans, but you would still be considered poorly as a warrior."

Don snorted. "Figures."

Usagi sighed. "It does seem rather a trap."

That made Donatello huff a laugh. "Well, good thing one of my best skills is breaking out of traps. I'll just have to bust my way out of this one, too. Or else quit and go nuts, and I know which I'd prefer."

"I sense you bear the soul of a rebel, my friend."

Don sighed. "Normally people say that about Raph, but yeah. I think we all do. It's the only way to keep being who we are."

"My world is not one that values defiance except against defeat. To willingly stand in opposition to the social order is cause for suspicion or even dishonor."

"Yeah. I noticed."

"Is it so difficult for you to conform?" Usagi asked.

Donatello's whole body twitched and he turned to the rabbit ronin with anger bubbling.

But before he could respond, Usagi held up a hand. "I did not mean to imply that you _should_ , my friend. I merely wish to understand why you choose the struggle."

That took some of the heat out of Don's reaction and he forced himself to breathe a few times before answering. "I've met people from all over the universe and the multi-verse. I've met other versions of myself. But the only one out there who thinks the way I do and who sees things the way I do is me. There's only one me in any world or dimension anywhere."

Usagi nodded. "That is likely true. People, I do believe, are very unique, even across vast distances of time and space."

"You know I don't like to kill when I fight, right?"

"Of course."

"It's not just that life is important, that life matters, though it does. We shouldn't just end it. But, it's also that every life is one more piece of the diversity that makes everything work together. Every person is their own endangered species. So...if I become anything other than myself, wouldn't that be killing a part of who I am? Even potentially? Taking away something unique that the world needs to make it whole?"

"Perhaps. Though I have never heard it put that way before."

Don shrugged. "And besides, I do have to live inside my own head, too."

Usagi frowned. "I see how your reverence for life might extend to a value of your own personality traits, but I do not understand your precise meaning. Live in your head?"

Don smiled faintly. "When the four of us were growing up in the lair, before we met April or anyone, we thought we'd be alone our whole lives. Just us and Master Splinter. It's why no matter how much Raph and Leo fight, they've never actually hated each other. Because if we were all going to be stuck together alone forever, we had to be able to live with each other."

Usagi raised an eyebrow and waited.

"We made a promise as kids that we'd always be brothers. But also that we'd always try to be ourselves. Because we wouldn't be brothers with each other if we changed. If Mikey wasn't goofy, he wouldn't be Mikey, and he wouldn't be our brother. So he had to stay goofy."

"And if he did not want to be goofy?"

Don chuckled. "Never gonna happen. But if he honestly and genuinely wanted to be different, that would be okay. As long as he was being _himself_. We wanted Mikey to be Mikey, no matter what that meant, rather than have Mikey turn into me or Raph or some other person. Anyway, we all swore on our honor that we'd be ourselves no matter what so we could still be brothers."

"And this is the reason you resist? To keep your vow?"

"Only partly. I also made that promise to myself. And as much as I can't break my promises to my brothers, I can't break them to myself either. I'm me. I'm Donatello. And I'm not ever going to be anything but that. I don't _want_ to be anything but that. I have to live with myself just like my brothers and I had to live with each other, so I have to stick to being someone I can live with. That's what I mean by live in my own head."

"I see."

"So, yeah, I'll fight a social construct the same way I'd fight being put in a cage. The only person who gets to decide what is or isn't right for me is me."

"There is something admirable in that fierce integrity of self," Usagi said after a moment. "Though I imagine at times it causes grief for you."

"Not that much. Raph has it worse. Raph is, like, the _definition_ of defying the box. He _hates_ other people's expectations and he burns them down as quick as he can so he can go back to living by his own code. But here….well."

"Such independence is not so noticeable in a warrior as it is in one who practices the arts of the mind, the ways of progress and change," Usagi finished.

"Exactly." Don tipped his head back and looked up at the sky. "The only way I stay Leo's brother, Raph's brother, Mikey's brother, and Sensei's son is to stay myself. Stay Donatello. Which means being an engineer and a tinkerer and a scientist. Which means asking questions and looking for answers. Which means not being afraid to be wrong, and not being afraid to try. If I give any of that up, I stop being myself, and I lose myself and my family."

"Which you will not do."

"Not for anything," Don vowed. "No matter _what_. Being myself is the only thing I _can_ be. I'll keep on being myself if it's the last thing I do because it's the only way to live with myself. Plus, it's the last way to keep my promises. And my family understands that – and they're the only ones whose opinions really matter to me."

"I begin to comprehend better, Donatello-san. Thank you."

Don actually managed a smile. "No, thank you, Usagi. Talking about it helped remind me. No matter what anybody thinks, my job is to be myself. And if I'm doing that, I'm not alone because I've got myself for company. That makes me feel better."

"So you will again take on the world? Quite unapologetically?" Usagi returned the smile.

"If I have to. It's certainly not the first time and, with my luck, it probably won't be the last."

Usagi dipped his head. "For what it is worth, my friend, I think any world which benefits from your interference in your own unique way ought to be grateful. And I am sorry that my own people are so little receptive to you and your ideas."

"It's okay." Don climbed to his feet. "If I keep going, the worst that happens is I learn a little bit more about smithing and your people are even more glad to see me gone when we eventually return home. I can live with that."

Determined once more, Donatello returned to the forge.

-==OOO==-

For ten days he worked without stopping other than to eat, sleep, and train with Leo. Even when he took his turns sitting with Splinter, he filled the notebook he had carried from home in his backpack with drawings, equations, and steel used to make katana in this world was prone to weakness unless it was heated and folded many times, and Don was trying to narrow in on exactly how many folds would make the optimal blade. Without his full lab, he could not test the iron sand that the metalsmiths made into steel for its specific properties, but he had worked often with scrap steel and iron of varying quality; Don knew he could at least ballpark the figures from what he had learned thus far.

At the end of the ten days, Donatello brought a new blade to his brother for morning practice.

"It's not as good as your katana," Don admitted, holding it out, "and there's nothing fancy about it. If I'd wanted to wait for a better hilt than the one I hammered out myself, it would have taken a lot longer, let alone doing any artistic flourishes or polishing it to within an inch of its life. But it should work."

Leo accepted the blade from his brother and hefted it, turning it this way and that in the sunlight.

It was a little longer than the paired katana Leo had brought from their home, and the blade was slightly narrower in the way of most katana in Usagi's world. The grip was leather wrapped over wood, and Leo noticed that Donatello had replicated the exact pattern of wrappings he preferred on his usual weapons. The blade was not the mirror-bright, almost perfect silver of the usual katana in both worlds – rather, it was dull and dark in color. And yet this katana was much lighter than Leo expected, and the edge gleamed with wicked sharpness.

Don fidgeted slightly as his brother examined his sword. "It's not going to be quite as strong as you're used to – no cutting through three-inch steel bolts, probably. But I made it sharper than usual to compensate."

Leo closed his eyes and began a kata that utilized only one blade rather than his usual two. As he moved from strike to strike, he settled into the slightly different balance of the blade, allowing his body to learn its shape and its spirit.

When he finished and at last opened his eyes, he smiled at Donatello.

"I'm impressed. This is a really good job for your first try."

Don's shoulders fell in relief. "I'm glad it worked," he admitted. "Swordmaking is harder than building a car, you know."

"I bet it is."

"A few more tries to perfect my process and I'll want to borrow your real katana so I can get the measurements right," Don said. "I also made one go at replicating Raph's sai, but it...didn't work out so well."

Leo raised an eye-ridge.

"Turned out looking more like a fork somebody stuck in a turbine." Don shrugged.

"Why didn't you start with something easier?" Leo asked. "Seems like you'd be able to make a tanto with a lot less effort than this took."

"I need to learn this metalsmithing while I can. When we go home, if you ever need replacement katana or if Raph needs a new sai, I need to be able to make that. I'm sure I could learn to make a tanto faster, but we don't need those as often."

"Fair enough." Leo returned the katana to Donatello who set it to the side.

They had only just begun their morning routine when a strange sound echoed through their arena.

Don froze in the middle of a block. "Is that...an earthquake?"

Leo's eyes widened. "No! It's an attack!"

A moment later, a hole erupted from the ground beside them and six black-clad moles emerged.

"Mogura ninja!" Leonardo drew his blades. "Don, don't let them catch you from underneath!"

Donatello pulled his bow, backing shell-to-shell with his brother. "What's the plan?"

"I'll hold them off. You go sound the alarm and then get to the Daimyo."

Don twirled his bo defensively to keep the Mogura back and looked over his shoulder. "What? Why?"

"Usagi will protect Master Splinter. I need you to look after Lord Kawauso. I'll be there as soon as I can." He turned just enough to meet Don's eyes. "I trust you. Now go!"

The Mogura darted forward on silent feet and there was no more time for debate. So Donatello planted his bo on the ground – hoping it would not give way underneath him – and launched himself over them. The instant he landed, he took off in a sprint, pausing only long enough to retrieve his handmade katana from the ground which he tucked into his belt against his shell. It wasn't that he was protective of it so much that he didn't want it to be lying around for one of the Mogura to find and use against Leo.

One good leap and Donatello was on the nearest rooftop. Without looking back, but listening hard to the sounds of Leo battling alone, he bolted at his best speed for the keep.

"Hey!" he bellowed at the top of his lungs. "Leo's under attack! We're under attack by mole ninja!"

From his vantage-point running from roof to roof, he could see the alarm spread, and only seconds later the loud bell was sounded that caused guards and samurai to spill from everywhere. But Don could also hear the sounds of rumbling and guessed that the Mogura could move pretty fast even underground.

At the last roof from the keep, Don jumped to the ground. "Lock the doors and get ready!" he yelled. He dove through as the guards on duty obeyed him. Once inside, he checked the heavy beam.

"They're Mogura, Leo said," Don explained. "Whatever defenses you have against ninja coming from under the floor, better put them into use. I'll go up to the Daimyo's chamber."

And then Don found himself on the stairway again, alone again, heading for the Daimyo with threat hanging in the air. Unlike last time, however, now he sprinted and jumped rather than walking sedately – though his heart beat no less quickly. At the top, the guards stood with their weapons out before the Daimyo's bedchamber.

"Mogura ninja," Donatello repeated. "Leo sent me to help protect the Daimyo."

" _You_ will stay out here," snarled one of the guards.

Don actually blinked at him. "Are you _serious_?"

But before he could get into an argument, the Daimyo's own voice sounded from the room beyond. "Let him pass."

Donatello rolled his eyes when the guards paused and just leaped over them. "You guys picked a shell of a bad time to decide not to trust me," he muttered. But he kept an eye on them; thankfully, the guards did not try to prevent him and he entered the Daimyo's room and closed the door behind himself.

"What is happening?" the Daimyo demanded. Donatello didn't bother to bow even though Lord Kawauso looked no less regal for being flat on his back in the middle of the imposing room.

"Mogura ninja have entered the castle. Leo's fighting them. He sent me to guard you until he can join us."

The Daimyo nodded. "Very well."

Don's blood was singing with adrenaline and he had stopped caring about rudeness, so he asked, "Can you tell me anything about these ninja? It might help."

"The Mogura are a ninja Clan like the Neko who offer services to those who pay for them. However, the entire Mogura Clan very rarely moves at even the highest price, so likely Nezumi only bothered to hire one small force."

"If their specialty is moving underground, we're probably pretty safe up here."

The Daimyo frowned. "Nezumi is clever. He knows the Mogura cannot reach me within the keep."

Don's eyes widened. "So he'll send a second attack when everyone's distracted!"

Don drew his bo just as the clash of fighting sounded in the hall outside the door.

"Here." Don took his katana and handed it to the Daimyo. "It's not perfect, but maybe it'll help just in case."

The Daimyo struggled to sit up, gripping the katana tightly.

Don set his bo to spinning, readying himself, and the act likely saved his life an instant later when a dart pierced through the paper walls aimed straight at his chest. The bo deflected the dart, and the next that followed it.

"I'm starting to see why you think all ninja are dishonorable around here!" he yelled, adjusting his angle to put himself between the Daimyo and where a good-sized hole in the paper revealed a Neko ninja with a blowgun.

After two more darts, the Neko reached to its belt and drew something larger than another dart.

"Oh crud," Don said, his heart sinking. He had a good guess what that was.

"Hold your breath!" Don yelled.

The Neko tossed a small packet a few sizes larger than Don's own smoke pellets. The instant it hit the floor, it exploded and a sickly green gas began to fill the room.

Donatello charged for the packet. Even though it meant leaving the Daimyo unguarded, this was the most dangerous threat in the room and he couldn't leave it there and fight effectively.

 _Of course they had to come when Leo and I were training so I don't have eighteen layers of cloth to use this time_ , he thought with resentment. However, even in training, Don always had his belt and its usual tricks.

 _Good thing I only used a little on the katana._

Don pulled out a small tin that had once held gum but that he liked because it was flat and sealed well and fit in one of his tiny belt pouches. He'd carried everything from cash to chemical samples in it, but this time it had been filled with a thick, pitch-like glue – the same he had used to bind the leather wrappings on the experimental katana.

Crouching over the packet that continued to spill the green smoke, Don upended his tin of glue. He smeared it all over the packet, and in moments he had effectively created an airtight seal. Of course, the air was tinged green now, and he was going to need to take a breath sometime, hopefully without exposing himself to yet another poison.

Don was so focused on cutting off the smoke that he didn't see the Neko loading the blowgun again until it was almost too late. He dodged to the side in a panicked dive, so the dart only scraped along his arm rather than puncturing his neck.

Immediately, Don's vision began to swim and he stumbled backwards, sliding helplessly to the ground.

-==OOO==-

Donatello woke up in the inkhouse with a splitting headache.

"What...happened? Ow..."

"So you live."

Don blinked to clear the fuzziness from his eyes and sat up. Seated against the door was Sato Takeko.

"Uh...yeah?"

She scowled. "The Heir will be pleased."

Events came flooding back. "Leo! The Daimyo! Are they okay?"

Sato's scowl deepened. "They are, though you bear little responsibility for it."

"What do you mean?"

Sato rose and grabbed something from the floor. She tossed it in Don's direction; he caught one piece in midair but the other thumped into the floor beside him.

" _Your_ blade broke in Lord Kawauso's hands." She sneered. "If not for the arrival of the young Lord, he would have been slain by the Neko."

Don gulped. In his hands was the hilt of the katana he had forged. But the blade only extended for an inch or so before it ended in a jagged break. Donatello spotted evidence of a sharp cutting edge that had struck a weak point in the steel.

"If the Daimyo's Heir had not saved him, you would have been executed where we found you senseless on the floor."

Sato rose, her jaw tight and her hands almost shaking with rage.

"You are no samurai and you barely deserve the title of ninja. And you have proven to be an inferior metalsmith as well. Had I the authority, I would banish you. As it is, if you have any honor in your soul at all, you will cease your efforts anywhere but here with your Master. No one should rely upon such a poor warrior for their safety."

Don tried to swallow but could not manage it.

"I will tell the young Lord that you are well." And she swept from the inkhouse without even glancing at him.

Don's eyes fell on the blade of his katana that rested beside him, winking accusingly in the room's low light. He picked it up, his fingers running along the break at its base.

 _I...I really screwed up this time._

Before long, Leonardo and Usagi both burst into the inkhouse, the former dropping to his knees before Don and gripping his shoulders, worry in his eyes. Usagi spotted the broken katana at Donatello's side, but said nothing.

Donatello answered Leo that he was fine, that the dart had only knocked him out, that he wasn't hurt. And Leo sat back, relieved, and told him about the fight and how Leo had only barely made it in time.

"It was wise of you to give your katana to Lord Kawauso," Usagi said then. "Without it, he would not have been able to defend himself long enough for Leonardo-san to arrive."

And Donatello shrugged and looked away. Usagi noticed but let it pass, knowing well for himself that sometimes a warrior needed to come to terms with a perceived failure on their own. He was confident the purple-banded turtle would soon realize that even a broken katana was better than none at all.

Usagi was surprised, however, when Leonardo did not comment on it at all, nor on Donatello's silence. The leader of the Hamato brothers simply continued on, explaining what he had done with the prisoners and that he had sent a messenger to find Michelangelo and Raphael and inform them to be on the lookout for more Mogura. And then someone knocked on the door requesting their young Lord and Leonardo gave Donatello orders to rest and asked Usagi to join him.

Usagi thought it was odd for his friend to miss the obvious distress in his brother, but Leonardo was rather in the midst of a crisis and he thought certainly the pair would have time to talk later. Therefore he resolved to keep his silence and to let Leonardo handle things in his own way.

Much, much later, Usagi would wonder – if he had intervened right then, would everything to follow have changed? Or was it already too late? Had the seeds of tragedy already taken root in the ground and now nothing would cut them down before they bore their final, bitter fruit?

-==OOO==-

For four days, Donatello barely left the inkhouse.

"I really am okay," he told Leo when he asked to put off returning to their morning training right away, "but I think I'm still dealing with some residual grogginess from whatever they put in that dart. Probably this is my body telling me I'm still a little weak and if I push too hard now, I'll be in trouble."

Leo shrugged. "Whatever you need, Donnie."

"Thanks for understanding."

Leo squeezed his shoulder. "Not a problem. Do you mind if I borrow Usagi for a while, though? Since you'll be here anyway? I think I want him to stick closer to Lord Kawauso in case Nezumi sends somebody or one of the ninja Clans tries to get revenge. It shouldn't be more than a couple of weeks before we hear from the Shogun."

"That's fine. I'm glad you'll have Usagi watching your back."

So Donatello spent four days largely alone. Without Usagi swapping shifts with him, Donatello saw only the healers a few times a day when they delivered herbs and checked for any change with Splinter's condition. Leonardo intended to make a point of coming by to pull Donatello to dinner with himself and Usagi – but after the first day, he forgot.

On the second day, Don took enough food at breakfast to hold him for the day so he didn't have to go eat in the common areas alone. There were too many eyes looking at him, too much blame and scorn for him to bear.

Eventually Donatello remembered Usagi's warning that his exposure to the poison might make him emotionally vulnerable. He was grateful that he was not suffering a proper relapse, and otherwise he accepted his feelings of shame and failure as the price for the broken katana.

"I'm sure if you were awake, you'd be telling me not to be so hard on myself," Don said to Splinter on his fifth day in virtual isolation. "I...I know it isn't my fault that the ninja attacked, and I did the best I could with the katana. But...it's just so hard."

He sighed. "It's bad enough there's an entire castle of people here who think I'm pretty much worthless. I'm not sure if they got that idea because we played me up as last in the Clan or not, but by now they believe it. They don't even seem to remember that I'm the one who saved the Daimyo anymore. I'm just the idiot who made the sword that broke while he was in danger."

Donatello closed his eyes, reaching out to grip his father's wrist as though it could anchor him and offer him solace.

"Remember what we were talking about before you went up to see the Daimyo to ask him to spare Shuo Katsu's life? That I didn't feel comfortable here? Well, now I _definitely_ don't. I mean, nobody needs a computer engineer in a world without computers, right?"

A familiar, dull ache started up in his chest.

"I'm not much use here, not with everybody treating me like a pariah. I'm just...too different from them. I...I wish you were here, Master. You always know what to do. And with Leo so busy and Raph and Mikey away...I could use some company, I guess."

With nothing else to do and his heart feeling heavy, Donatello sank into his own mind. Images, feelings, memories – they swirled in a whirlpool that held Donatello and kept him from reaching the peace of meditation.

The broken katana.

Sato Takeko's harsh words.

Jurou's poison coating Master Splinter's fur.

 _My son._

 _Sensei! Is that you?_

 _I am here, Donatello, though my spirit is weak._

 _Master...we've been so worried. You've been sick for so long._

 _And I will be sick a great deal longer, I fear. But I am with you, my son. I am easily found if you seek me. I sense great sorrow in your heart, Donatello. It calls to me like a beacon._

 _I'm sorry, father. Things...have been hard for me lately._

 _Do not let adversity claw away at your courage, my son. Despair is more dangerous than any blade. If it has claimed a place inside your mind, I fear for you._

 _It's...it's okay, Sensei. It's my own fault anyway, mostly. But it does me a lot of good to know you're still in there somewhere. It's...been hard watching you be so sick._

 _I imagine it has, my son, for all of you. Tell me – are your brothers well?_

 _I think so. Leo's working double-time to protect the Daimyo. There was another attack. And Raph and Mikey are out patrolling the han looking for Nezumi's forces. The last report said they weren't having any troubles except annoying each other as usual. At least that's what I got out of the frowny face Mikey drew._

 _Your brothers have stalwart souls. Though the world changes around them, they remain as ever. As do you, Donatello._

 _Yeah, but I…_

 _Which is why this world is so difficult for you. You do not suit its rules._

 _Pretty much._

 _I have faith in you, my son. I know you will find a way to live with yourself no matter the pains that weigh upon you._

 _Thank you, Sensei._

 _Now, I grow weary. I must continue to gain my strength that I may return to my body sooner. But tell your brothers to seek me that I may find them. And Donatello?_

 _Yes, Master?_

 _It is tedious to linger here with nothing to entertain my mind but my own thoughts. When you return, bring with you a story to tell._

 _I will. I promise._

 _Go, my son, but without fear. I am with you._

Donatello's eyes flew open, his heart beating fast and alight with joy.

"I'm with you, too, father." He squeezed the wrist he held, then jumped to his feet and ran for the door. The guard outside blinked at him in surprise.

"Go find Leo. Tell him I need to talk to him right away. Master Splinter is going to be okay!"

-==OOO==-

Two weeks after Splinter's first mental connection with Donatello, he opened his eyes to find all four of his sons gathered around.

"My...sons…" he croaked, his voice weak and thin from disuse.

Four cries of "Master Splinter!" filled the small inkhouse.

Michelangelo couldn't help the sniffly sob that gathered in his chest, so he dove forward to hug his father. Beside him, Raphael was wiping at his own beak, his hand locked on Splinter's and gripping the familiar fingers as though they were the only real thing in the world. On the other side, Leonardo bowed low enough to tuck his face against his father's cheek, breathing out a shuddering sigh.

Donatello appeared around his brothers with a cup of water. "Here, Sensei. Drink slowly."

He had to wait until Michelangelo gave up his hug and until Leonardo leaned back, and it was Raphael who maneuvered himself in position to lift his Sensei's head enough to drink.

The cool water was a relief and Splinter sipped it gratefully. "Thank you," he said. "Thank you all. It has done my heart good to touch your minds as I healed."

"It helped us, too," Leo admitted. "Being closer to you again."

Because of their ability to communicate with him while he was healing, there was little news that needed to be shared. Leo had called Raph and Mikey back the same day Don told him he could reach Splinter's mind, and the four of them had been taking turns settling into meditation to reach him. They'd told him about his illness, about the attacks on the Daimyo, about the day-to-day activities that kept them from boredom.

But as Splinter looked at each of his sons, he could begin to see what they had _not_ been telling him as well.

Michelangelo, usually open with his emotions, had a new sort of energy and seriousness about himself. Splinter had guessed that he had been the most frightened that his father would never actually wake, but he had expressed that fear openly in their connection. What Michelangelo had not stated – but others of his brothers had – was how much he had been smitten with the cat named Mitsu in a local village. Splinter had been told that Michelangelo was still journeying back and forth from there every few days, and now he could see the result of that growing affection. His son's eyes held a kind of distraction that meant his mind was not entirely on affairs before him, not when the person who held his heart was not present to share them.

Raphael, Splinter considered, had been perhaps the most honest with him while they communicated. The hotheaded turtle had been frank about his frustrations, from his constant annoyance with Michelangelo to his discomfort with some of the things he had overheard from the guards. Raphael might not have admitted as much aloud, but Splinter sensed in him a restlessness in the face of this world of strict rules of conduct. It was not that Raphael chafed under them in the same way Donatello did, but Raphael chafed under all rules eventually, and this staid and regimented society was beginning to wear on him.

Donatello's own emotions were carefully concealed, but Splinter knew his son too well; even the bright smile of relief could not hide his grief. Splinter had learned of the broken katana from Leonardo, who had not understood the depth of his brother's shame, but what Splinter saw now before him was almost more worrying than the original distress he had sensed in meditation. Donatello's heart had always been gentle and easily harmed, and it seemed his alienness in this world was eroding his fragile confidence.

Leonardo, however, worried Splinter the most if only because it was in Leonardo that the greatest physical change had been wrought. Where the Leonardo Splinter saw in his mind stood straight and true as always, this Leonardo's eyes were lined with deep circles and his brow was furrowed with stress. The burden of being Heir had been one Splinter thought his chunin could bear, and he had, but it was clearly wearing upon him more than he wished anyone to realize.

"My sons…" Splinter said, then coughed.

Raphael was still behind him, holding him up, and he tightened his grip slightly. "Easy, Sensei."

"The coughing will last for a while," Donatello said with commiseration. "It does get better if you don't fight it, though."

Splinter let his body cough until it was exhausted. He could not argue with Leonardo ordering Raphael to tuck him back into bed and all four to leave him to sleep.

"We'll be near, Master," Leonardo assured him. "But even Don had to sleep for the better part of a week before he was on his feet, and he was only down for a matter of days."

"I am grateful to be awake again," Splinter said even as his eyelids dragged at him. "Even if I must sleep, I hope...to wake soon and for longer than a few minutes."

"We hope so, too, Sensei," Michelangelo said.

He slipped into sleep, confident that with his sons united and at his side all would be well.


	3. Worth

This has been an amazing week on my end – I think I had a comment or a message every day this week! I was FLOORED. I'll respond to you as soon as I get this up, I promise.

I'm dedicating this chapter to 2 users for especially making my day when I needed it the most. So, Optimisticat and Luck-of-the-Irishmen, this one is for you!

But to everyone who has left me a comment or a kudos or a favorite or a follow, THANK YOU. Seriously. You are the BEST!

Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 3: Worth

* * *

All did not go quite as smoothly as everyone hoped, however. For more than a week, Splinter only woke a few times a day - enough to eat and speak for some minutes with his sons - before falling into slumber again.

"Is he _ever_ gonna be okay again?" Raph asked testily after Splinter had fallen asleep almost in the middle of yet another lunch.

"He will," Don said. "But at this rate, it's going to be months before he's anywhere back to normal."

"Slow and steady healing is okay. Rushing things isn't," Leo said.

"Hey, we're turtles! We should be all about slow and steady, right?" Mikey asked with a hopeful smile.

Raph ignored him. "Should we maybe take him home for that?"

"No." Leo shook his head. "Even if the journey between dimensions wouldn't be as dangerous now, this is where we can get the herbs that he needs. Besides, we don't really have much of a home at the moment."

Donatello glared at his brother but said nothing. It wasn't that Leo _intended_ to make it sound like he blamed anyone for the fact that the lair was still mostly sitting in chaotic pieces, but it felt to Don like this, too, was at least partly his fault. If he'd built it faster, if he'd found a way to get things up and running sooner...if he hadn't let Splinter get poisoned…

"I'm going out," he announced, pushing to his feet and striding out the door of the inkhouse. He had to glance down at himself to make sure he was dressed appropriately; even after weeks, it still wasn't second-nature to wander around in the kimono.

"What's his problem?" Don could hear Mikey ask from behind.

"You're probably getting on his nerves," Raph snapped back.

As he walked, Donatello tried to breathe. He was just so tightly wound these days, and it made no sense! Splinter was awake and he was getting better. Mikey and Raph were back from wandering. Raph had actually punched a guard for saying something unflattering about Donatello, after which the whispers had mostly stopped - though nothing could be done for the glares and scowls that followed him even now.

But there was still something on the edge of Donatello's awareness that made him feel like he was crawling out of his very skin.

The distraction of it was probably to blame for what happened next.

Donatello actually left the castle to go down to the village, where he had intended to wander out in the fields and try to get his head on straight. However, he was dismayed to see that Honda Ryome and several of the other guards were walking through the town, too.

 _Probably out looking for more ninja_ , Don thought. _But if there are any around here, they're either in disguise or not stupid enough to get caught by samurai strutting about in full armor._

He tried to ignore the glares directed at him. He tried to ignore how people - not just guards and samurai but even the villagers - stopped talking when he was in range.

But he didn't ignore Honda Ryome's bellow of rage.

"Dishonor! Thief!"

Donatello's eyes widened at the sight of the otter samurai drawing his blades against a child - a dog barely old enough to be called anything but a puppy. The young one had frozen in terror and was just starting to cry.

Donatello moved like lightning, launching himself above and across the gathering crowd and coming down with his bo in his hands, striking Honda Ryome with all his strength. The samurai, not expecting the attack from behind, went down like a ton of bricks.

"Don't touch him!" he roared.

"How _dare_ you?" Honda Ryome climbed to his feet laboriously, favoring his left shoulder which had taken the brunt of Don's attack. "How _dare_ you interfere? The stain on my honor must be wiped out at once by the blood of that peasant!"

"You're _not_ getting through me to this kid," Don said, anger seething in his gut. He planted his feet between the samurai and the child.

"He stole money from my pocket. I was invoking my right of _kiri-sute gomen_ to restore my honor."

"Well, I'm invoking _my_ right as a reasonable turtle to ignore your whatever-that-is. You're _not_ hurting this boy!"

Donatello ignored the shouting of people all around; he had to focus. Behind him, the puppy boy was trembling with fear, tiny hands reaching up to hold onto Donatello's belt. Before him, Honda Ryome was slowly being surrounded by other castle guards, and not one of them was looking like an ally.

But Honda stretched out an arm. "Do not approach him. I will reclaim my honor from this Kame myself!"

Don tightened his grip on his bo and waited.

"I challenge you to a duel, Kame. You will meet me in the training arena at sunset."

Don swallowed and his voice came out sounding rather like Raph's growl. "You're going to kill me instead?"

Honda shook his head. "I would, but you are kin to the young Lord. He would banish me if I slew his brother. No, we battle not to the death. But you will lie defeated before me for this insult."

Don raised his chin. "See you then."

Honda Ryome looked like he wanted to spit on the ground, but he turned instead and marched back towards the castle. All the guards followed in his wake, but many of them gave Donatello looks so dirty he thought they might actually spawn mud in midair.

When the soldiers were gone, the villagers returned to their normal activities, albeit with nervous glances. All but one, a grown dog who raced forward.

"Hiroki! Are you hurt?" The dog snatched the child from behind Donatello.

"No, father," the boy said through a few tears. "This Kame-san saved me."

Hiroki's father turned to Don and bowed with the boy in his arms. "Thank you, Kame-sama. Hiroki owes you his life."

"No problem. But can you tell me _why_ that all happened?"

"My boy is a good boy, but mischievous. One of his older brothers taught him how to pick-pocket, and he has been practicing on everyone in the village." He paused to glare at the child. "But you will _never_ do so again. Do I have your word?"

"Yes, father."

"Yeah, good tip. Don't steal from people who are armed and don't take well to being surprised," Don said.

"It is not that." Hiroki's father shook his head. "The samurai invoked _kiri-sute gomen_. It means that he had a right to strike at anyone of lower stature than himself for compromising his honor. To steal from such an important samurai would be a great loss of face."

Donatello felt sickened. "He would have killed a child for simple pick-pocketing?"

"It is his right as samurai."

Don had to swallow against a rage and pressure that made him wonder idly if this was how Raph felt all the time.

Hiroki's father bowed again. "I am sorry that you must now face the samurai in combat. My family is in your debt for the life of my son."

Don managed a nod. "Don't worry about it."

 _I guess I'm not getting my nice peaceful walk after all._

-==OOO==-

At sunset, Donatello appeared in the training arena, his heart quaking but not from fear of the fight. Honda Ryome was a skilled samurai, but Don had believed him that he would not be looking for a to-the-death combat, so as long as he didn't lose any limbs, he would would walk away.

Don believed it even more because he had returned to the castle and told Leo about the upcoming duel; Leo had stormed off and Don was pretty sure his brother was telling Honda that if he actually hurt Don Leo would challenge him in return - and he would not hold back.

But Don had avoided his brothers and Master Splinter and Usagi after that, finding solace in the forge even though he had mostly stayed back and stoked the fires for the metalsmiths. When he was distracted it was dangerous to work with molten steel; he had the scars to prove it from all the years of his life.

Leonardo walked out to the center of the arena, looking resplendent and thoroughly intimidating in the robes of his station, his swords worn openly at his side.

"This is a non-fatal combat to restore the honor of Honda Ryome," he said simply. "Any interference will result in banishment for the guilty party by order of the Daimyo."

That made Don feel somewhat better. _Nobody's going to try to knife me in the back. Not that they could with the guys here watching out for me. But that's the whole problem, isn't it?_

Because it wasn't only Honda Ryome and his brothers in attendance. The training arena was lined with nearly every samurai and warrior attached to the castle. The crowd was like a small army gathered around him.

And not a single non-turtle face in the crowd was friendly.

 _You can practically feel the disgust and dislike and disdain and dis...something else rolling off them_ , Don thought. _Great. Fantastic._

He looked to his brothers at one side. Michelangelo was cheering for him unabashedly, blithely unaware or simply ignoring the hostility. Raphael, however, was glaring daggers at everyone in his vicinity.

"Hamato Donatello."

Don turned to Leo. "I'm ready."

"Honda Ryome."

Honda simply inclined his head.

"Very well. Begin!" And Leo quickly retreated to the sidelines.

Donatello readied himself, allowing the samurai to make the first move. Honda Ryome didn't disappoint, charging him with a battle yell that reverberated in the air.

Don dodged his initial attack with a silent leap and brought his bo around. But this time Honda was ready for him and parried neatly.

Donatello tried to focus on what he was doing, on watching Honda for his next move, on the battle before him. But all he could see whenever he turned his head was more contempt and scorn on every side. All he could hear was the cheering for Honda drowning out the three turtle voices in the crowd. Even if Usagi had been watching and not guarding Master Splinter, he would have been invisible in a sea of so many samurai.

Donatello felt horribly alone. Despised. Unwelcome.

When Honda Ryome caught him unawares, he almost lost his arm except that he got his block up in time to catch the full momentum of the samurai's strike on his bicep. He couldn't help the yelp of pain that escaped him, though.

And the crowd shouted in approval.

What resilience Don might have had crumbled.

A few poorly-executed moves later, Donatello found himself on the ground with a blade above his face.

"Surrender, Kame. You have failed and my honor is restored."

"Whatever," Don said, grateful that it was over. He didn't bother to get up while Leo declared Honda the victor and the samurai went to greet his cheering fans. Instead, he used the cover of the crowd to disappear, sticking to the shadows until he could get away.

But, as good as Donatello was at hiding from hateful samurai, he could not out-sneak his brother.

"Wait up, Donnie," came Leo's soft voice.

Don sighed as he turned, grateful at least that Leo had found him down one of the narrower corridors between outbuildings where they had some privacy.

"Are you hurt?" Leo asked.

"Nope."

Leo crossed the distance between them and faced him. "Donatello…"

"Look, it's fine. I lost. Is everybody happy now?" Don asked, slumping.

Leo put a hand on Don's shoulder. "Not really. I mean, Honda Ryome is satisfied anyway. And that eases the Lord's mind. But I'm not, for one. What were you _thinking_?"

Don's defeated posture vanished and he straightened up with fire in his eyes. "Leo, he was going to hurt a little kid! If Mikey had been there, he might have bashed Honda's face in!"

"Mikey wouldn't have dared it because Mikey's been paying attention to the rules around here!"

Don's hands tightened into fists. "Leo, think about what you're saying for a minute. Is the social structure of this world more important than the life of an innocent person?"

Leonardo was about to spit back an answer, but he caught the anger in his brother's voice and deliberately forced himself calmer. If Donatello wasn't going to be reasonable, Leo would have to be. He took a deep breath and answered in a more measured tone.

"Of course I wouldn't have wanted that boy to die. That's not right by any definition. But we're here as guests, important guests. We can't start a revolution and rewrite this entire culture just because we don't like part of it. You of all people know you can't rip out one component and expect a whole system to work."

Don scowled. "So what _should_ I have done, Fearless?"

Leo raised an eye-ridge at the taunt that was almost exclusively used by Raphael and only then when he was annoyed. "You could have verbally asked for clarification as to what was happening. _Kiri-sute gomen_ is only permissible in the immediate aftermath of a slight, so if you had bought yourself even a few minutes, Honda wouldn't have been able to justify it. Then the whole matter would have gone to trial." He peered at his younger brother carefully. "It's not like you to fight rather than talk your way out of a problem."

Donatello let out an aggrieved sigh. "I _know_. It's just...this whole world has me off-balance. I...don't feel like myself here."

"Why not?"

"Leo, I'm _not_ a samurai!" He didn't say _And neither are you_ aloud, but it was clearly implied. "I'm a ninja, but more importantly I'm an engineer! I'm a computer geek! This might be like paradise to you, bro, but it's like being back in the Cretaceous period except without the dinosaurs for me. At least then there weren't all these rules and people for me to offend."

Don closed his eyes and looked away from his brother. "I just don't fit here, okay?"

Leonardo was more than a little surprised, but he shook off his feelings and got an arm around his brother's shoulders. "Don...I guess I never thought about it that way. Is it really that hard for you to be comfortable here?"

Don leaned into the comfort. "Honestly? It's _impossible_. Everything I am is antithesis to this whole place. I'm all about innovation, invention, technology. No wonder I keep making mistakes."

"You're not antithesis to _everything_."

Don looked up to see a fond expression on Leo's face he hadn't seen for what felt like a long time. "No?"

"Whatever else you feel, you're not out of place with me. With us. We're your family, Donnie, no matter where we go."

Donatello's throat constricted. He couldn't decide if he was grateful for Leo's reassurance or resentful; couldn't decide if he wanted to accept the comfort or if he wanted to shout at Leo about how much he felt he was different from his family even now. Wanted to remind his brother that of all of them, _only_ Donatello was still an outsider. _Only_ Donatello didn't fit anymore.

So he just nodded and let his head lean back on Leo's arm.

Leonardo accepted Donatello's silence as agreement. "Okay. Well, now we've got to find a way to cheer you up. So what would you like to be doing? If you could do anything you wanted?"

That was not what Don had expected to be asked, but he had the answer ready anyway. "Given the choice, I'd like to go home. Setting up our new lair sounds really soothing right now."

Leo choked a little bit. "You'd rather go back to work?"

Don cracked a smile. "It's work to _you_. To me, wiring and programming are better than meditation."

Leo shook his head. "Well, if that's how you really feel, why don't you go home for a while? You can work on the lair while the rest of us stay here and keep up with our duties. Then everybody would have what they want. And it'll give you a chance to get a head-start before we come home and make a mess of your hard work again."

Donatello's gut lurched in uncertainty, but it was easily overruled by the relief flooding through the rest of him. "Really? You mean it?"

"Sure. With Raph and Mikey sticking close to the castle to help with Master Splinter, we don't need you to be here at the moment. If some time at home is what'll be best for you, I'm not going to keep you here where you're miserable."

Donatello felt his shoulders relax so much Leo actually tightened his grip as if he were afraid Don was about to fall. "That's the best idea you've had in weeks, bro," he said a little weakly.

Leonardo was concerned with just how much more like the old Donatello his brother suddenly looked - and how long it had been since he had looked that way. _Apparently this has been a lot tougher on him than any of us realized. I should have sent him back long ago._

"Come on," Leo said, making a mental note to keep a better eye on Don when he returned to Usagi's world. "You'll want to say goodbye to Mike and Raph and Master Splinter and Usagi. I'll make your apologizes to the Daimyo. And in an hour you'll be back with your microchips and transistors."

Don allowed Leo to lead him away. "Sounds perfect. Thanks for understanding."

"Any time, little brother."

They found Mikey and Raph between the practice ring and the inkhouse. Neither actually made fun of Donatello for his loss, to his great surprise; Mikey even gave him a sympathetic smile.

"Don't sweat it, dude. Everybody has a bad day sometimes."

Don felt his shoulders relax even a bit more. "Thanks Mikey."

"You feelin' okay, bro?" Raph asked, frowning. "I know you can fight better than that, and I know you weren't throwin' the match, either."

"How can you be so sure?" Leo asked, honestly curious. He hadn't thought Donatello would deliberately lose, either, but he wouldn't have bet on it.

"If he was actually trying to lose, he would'a dropped his bo when Honda went for his blind side." Raph looked at Don's sore arm. "You should'a dropped it, Donnie. Now you're gonna have a lump the size of a baseball."

"Like you said," Don shrugged, "I was trying to win."

"You _should_ have won," Mikey put in. "Raph's totally right - you're way better than that. I thought you were finally all healed and back to normal, but that wasn't normal even for you."

"You shouldn't'a let the crowd get to you, Donnie," Raph said. "You were worrying too much about them and not about the fight."

Don did not feel like dealing with yet more critique, and was preparing to sigh and ignore that, but Leonardo stepped in and redirected the conversation.

"Don's not happy, and I think we've proven that there's some people here who are making life tougher on him. It's not like this place has a whole lot to offer a computer scientist, anyway. So he's going to head back to Earth for a while to work on the lair."

"Really?" Mikey blinked. "Can you send some of my comics back through when you go?"

Don managed a small chuckle. "Sure. But if you don't make me an exact list of what you want, you're getting whatever box is on top."

"Deal!"

"That's not a bad idea," Raph said. "It has been a while since I got to ride anything but horses. Think you'd mind some company?"

That lifted Donatello's spirits considerably. "Not at all! There's a lot of vehicles to rebuild, and if you help me with it, we can do your new Shell Cycle first."

"You got it."

Leo smiled at his brothers, feeling both relieved and proud. Of course no one was upset with Donatello for not fitting in here. It wasn't really the right place for him, after all. But they were still brothers and they had each other's shells no matter what.

"How soon are you going?" Raph asked.

"As soon as I can get my stuff together and see Master Splinter," Don said. "Is that okay?"

"Works for me. I'll go see Sensei now so you can talk to him on your own after you pack."

"Thanks, Raph."

And though Donatello did feel better, his spirits at least somewhat restored, the same nameless unease that had troubled him for weeks was still growing.

-==OOO==-

"Come in, Donatello."

Don pushed through the door and shut it behind himself. He was suddenly very glad Raph had done this first.

Splinter was sitting up on his mat, leaning against a cushion. "Sit, my son."

Don crossed the floor he now knew as well as he knew the previous lairs and dropped to kneel at his father's side.

"Raphael tells me you and he will be returning home for a time."

"Yes, Sensei."

"He also told me about your duel."

Don hung his head. "I'm sorry, Master Splinter."

"What possible reason could you have to apologize, my son?"

"I...I lost. I dishonored our Clan."

"My son." Splinter's voice went clipped and cold. " _Donatello_."

Don looked up at the implicit command.

"I believe that returning to our home is the correct course of action." Splinter's eyes were narrowed with anger, but they melted into a more familiar expression of understanding. "If you have become so lost that you confuse your own honor for the opinion of others, a more welcoming environment may help to restore your inner balance."

Donatello's eye-ridges raised. "Master?"

Splinter shook his head. "To lose in a duel is not to lose honor, my son. I am proud that you intervened on behalf of a child, no matter the circumstances."

"I didn't…" Don took a deep breath. "I did lose the fight, but I didn't throw it."

"I would never presume you would, Donatello."

"I just...I couldn't focus on it. Every time I tried to keep my mind on fighting, I kept seeing all those faces around me and...what they think of me."

Splinter reached out and put a hand on his son's head. "What they think is wrong, my son. Your honor is unquestionable, and your heart is pure. Our current hosts are mistaken about you, and I fear that the fault is my own."

"No it isn't…"

Splinter silenced him with a look. "It was I who suggested we lower your place in our Clan in order to disguise you. However, it seems the result of this plan has been to your great detriment. I believe some time in our new lair with your work will do much to restore your confidence. I do not like to see you so unhappy, Donatello."

A lump formed in Don's throat. "I...I'm not enjoying it much, either."

"Then why did you not go sooner?" Splinter knew the answer to the question, but asking it would allow him to lead Donatello to a more important conclusion.

"Because of you," Don said. "I didn't want to leave you. Especially with Mikey running off to see Mitsu every couple of days and Leo so busy. It wouldn't have been fair."

"But remaining here has not been fair to you. I am grateful for your dedication, which also does you much honor, Donatello. I wonder, however, if we must truly be separated by the veil of dimensions."

Don blinked. "What do you mean?"

"Is not the line between one world and the next only as wide as a doorway?" Splinter asked.

"Well, yeah…"

"And have you not proven that there are many ways to pass through such a door?"

Light flooded into Donatello's eyes and he looked up with sudden enthusiasm. "The portal stick! I completely forgot about it! Sensei, you're a genius!"

Splinter smiled.

Don's words sped up as he thought aloud, happy for the first time in days. "I was thinking that if we went back we'd be dependent on Leo to open the magical doorway for us. I mean, I could learn it if I had to, but… _ugh._ "

"I understand."

Splinter wondered if Donatello himself even knew why he shied away from using such a form of magic. He suspected not. If the realization Splinter had stumbled upon some years before had ever occurred to Donatello, he had seen no sign of it.

It was just as well. Donatello was comfortable with the powers of his own mind and his own energy. Splinter was content to leave him ignorant as to the rest.

"But I could set the portal stick to this dimension by tracking it the same way we tracked the Technodrome to Turtle Prime. I could probably even build a receiver for it that I could leave here. That way it wouldn't only be one-way. When you activate the portal stick, you can see into your target dimension, but they can't see you. If I built a receiver, it would work like a real-time video chat."

"I would request that you visit with Leonardo or myself regularly to confirm that all is well," Splinter said. "And if you have need of me, you may return as you wish."

Don smiled at him. "Thanks, Sensei. I'll do that." Then, a little shakily, "Thanks for understanding about why I need to get out of here, too."

Splinter took his hand and squeezed it. "You and your brother Raphael share a certain sort of independence that is ill-suited to some aspects of this world. I am glad you have found a solution that will relieve you both of the pressures of being here."

"And we'll just be a portal stick away. When you're feeling better, you can come visit."

Splinter nodded. "Though I admit I don't much anticipate resuming a life underground without the sun or wind."

Don huffed a laugh. "Tell me about it. Hiding is going to feel weird for a while."

"And this is the reason I am most pleased Raphael is going with you, my son. You must guard each other closely while you retrain your instincts for shadow and silence."

"We will. I promise."

"Then I bid you farewell until you create your portal receiver. Be well, Donatello." And he embraced his son.

"Take care of yourself, Sensei. I'll see you soon."

But when the door shut behind Donatello and Splinter shifted so that he could sleep once more, he felt a cold chill of apprehension.

 _Master Yoshi, guard over my sons while my family is split across dimensions. May they all be safe though their paths diverge, and may we all find our way back to one another again._

-==OOO==-

Donatello sighed happily. "Shell, I missed this."

Across from him, Raph looked up. "I know what ya mean. Usagi's world is great and all, but there's something to be said for being a grease monkey again."

Don smiled at him. Raph certainly looked the part with oily smudges coating his hands and streaking up his arms. He had one big smear on his plastron, too, and one under an eye and up half of his beak. Don wasn't much better; though he wore his smock to protect his front, his hands and arms all the way to the shoulder looked like he had stuck them into a vat of tar.

But between them, Raph's newest Shell Cycle was beginning to take shape.

Don glanced across to the schematics he had tacked up on the wall beside them. "Hmm. The engine-block is done, but there's still a lot of basic assembly, and the frame…"

But before he could finish, a buzzer sounded.

Raph shook his head. "That's your cue, braniac."

Don looked longingly at the bike for a moment before he sighed and clambered to his feet, rubbing the worst of the grease off of his hands onto a nearby towel. "Wiring and security are the priorities, I know, but honestly? I think I'd rather do this."

"I know you would," Raph said. "But I'll keep at it for a while. You can check my work on your next break."

"Thanks."

Donatello gave Raph's favorite project one last, regretful glance before he turned to head to another part of the new lair. On the way, he stopped at the improvised easel that held the timer and a huge piece of cardboard almost covered in writing.

At the top it read "To Do List."

Don glanced at the list, counting the items already crossed off as complete. In spite of having been in New York for only a few days, he had been able to get an enormous amount of work accomplished. Of course, this time he had two major advantages.

First, Raphael was no slouch when it came to at least the basics of mechanical work. He couldn't necessarily build a vehicle from scratch, but he could follow instructions and he could repair most practical things. While Donatello dealt with everything from rewiring the whole place to rebuilding all the equipment he typically needed, Raph handled the more mundane activities like banging heating ducts into place, building and hanging new doors, and reinforcing the stairs and railings that led to the second level. He had also spent most of a day following Donatello's map of the surrounding sewers and hanging brackets that would soon hold cameras and sensors for the security array. By taking care of the simpler tasks, Donatello was better able to focus on those things only he could accomplish.

Second, of course, was that he could work on his own schedule, only needing to compensate for Raphael's company; for once he was untroubled by the presence and frequent interruptions of the rest of the family. With that sort of luxury, Donatello had settled into a specific time-management procedure to keep him focused and productive. He'd explained it when he set up the easel with the alarm clock.

"I'm not about to run myself into the ground deliberately, but I work better to my own rhythm. For example, we both know I'm going to stay up to all hours no matter what, so I'm not going to try to force myself to get up at the crack of dawn. That's how I usually get run down."

"I ain't that big a fan of dawn either," Raph had said.

"Right. So I'm going to assume I'll get up somewhere around ten in the morning and go to bed between two and four in the morning. Also, if I cut down to just one real meal a day and graze on snacks and leftovers whenever I'm hungry the rest of the time, I'll be able to focus on work and not cooking and doing dishes."

"So long as you eat something sometimes, I ain't gonna complain. You're a grown turtle."

"I'll try to set an alarm for myself when we should think about cooking dinner so I don't work right through it. If you weren't here, I might skip dinner, too, but that wouldn't be fair to you." He'd smiled.

Raph had raised an eye-ridge at that, but hadn't argued. He had, however, privately vowed to remember to cook that one meal himself so his otherwise-brilliant brother didn't have the opportunity to forget.

"I'm going to set up a timer that will track several shifts throughout the day. Probably three hours on, one hour off, though I might extend it to four or five when I really get going."

"What for?"

"It's too easy for me to get too absorbed in a single project," Don had admitted. "If I sit down at my laptop and start setting up the base system that I'll eventually transfer onto our new mainframe, I could get caught up in programming and firewalls and the rest of my computer work and days would go by before I even remember to go hang cameras or fix the plumbing. If I have to stop at regular intervals, I'll be better able to keep everything moving forward in turns without leaving anything out."

"So what'll you do on your off hour?"

"Work on your bike, of course." Don had grinned. "Or anything else that isn't on the high priority list but makes us happy. If we get bored we can even go patrolling or do some sparring. Anything besides the work on the official list."

Raph had understood the logic to that - building in set time to goof off or focus on something fun rather than necessary to keep from burning out - but he also decided he wouldn't let his brother's shifts go longer than four hours. Even Donatello needed a break sometimes, and after four hours, Raph knew from experience Don would be so enrapt with his work he might try to skip his downtime.

"You're soundin' a little bit like Leo with trying to organize every minute of your day, bro," he'd said.

Don had given him a small smile. "I know. But trust me. Once we get into it, you'll be glad for this much structure."

And now, a few days later, Raph could see the advantages to his brother's system. Sleeping in and staying up late was second nature to them both, and without Leo demanding morning practice or Mikey bouncing around causing trouble or Splinter insisting on three proper meals with the family a day, they had raced through the first items on the To Do List with alacrity. The regular breaks from the assigned tasks kept the days moving and kept Raph from getting too frustrated with any one job. And tracking it with a timer kept both of them from getting too caught up to remember to eat or rest.

Raph didn't out-and-out admit that Don had been right, but the fact that he was still following the shift pattern without even grumbling was proof enough that he appreciated Don's system.

While Raph was still occupied with his bike, Donatello pondered the To Do List, making mental notes.

 _Running all the lines out to the cameras and sensors is the biggest and most time-consuming job short of actually setting up the computer system. Well, besides my lab. But my lab comes after we get the lair secured, not before. And I'll have to rebuild all our server nodes and clusters and start restoring everything, too. Only after we're secure, though._

 _Hmm. Kitchen's functional, most of the stuff is at least in the room where it belongs, and the power grid is holding. The plumbing works but I wouldn't want to try it with all of us living here just yet, so I'll have to do something about that. Raph got the TV brackets up - now we just need a TV to go on them._

 _Did I write down that I need to set up a proper ventilation system for my lab? ...Nope. Shell. Gotta add that before I try anything that might release toxic chemicals. While I'm at it, I should probably design something to vent the whole lair. Then if something happened or we got attacked by some kind of gas, I could clear the air safely._

 _We also don't have direct access to the river here. I really don't want to crack through the floor or something. I'll have to find a secondary location nearby and then secure a route in between._

 _Better make a run topside tonight. I need some cables and as many nails and screws as I can carry. Or as Raph can carry. And we'll have to make a whole separate trip at some point to stock the infirmary. Whatever I can't order online we'll have to get some other way. Right now, all we have is whatever isn't contaminated after the last lair attack. Not a shell of a lot._

 _Am I ever going to get this all done? Can I even remember everything that needs doing?_

Donatello grabbed a marker from the easel and began adding notations to the List, mostly in very small letters in the margins as he had to write around all his previous scribbling.

"I think you need a new list," Raph said and Don turned to find him standing at his side.

"I know. This always happens." Don smiled ruefully. "There's just so much to do, and I don't want to forget any of it."

"You won't. You never do." There was staunch certainty in Raph's eyes.

Don felt some of his worry lessen. "I'm glad you think so, bro."

"I'm glad I'm right." Raph nudged him. "Now, I know it's new shift time, but it looks to me like maybe your brain's in overdrive and you could use an extra break."

Don shook his head. "Thanks, but I think I'll sleep better tonight if I use this one to start wiring the sensor net so we can go scrounging on the next shift before bed. I know I won't get all the security up tonight, but I'd feel better if I didn't have to do it all tomorrow."

Raph eyed him. "So what can I do?"

"You don't have to do anything but work on your bike right now, Raph. You've definitely earned some fun, and this part's not really that hard."

"And I already know where all the mounts are because I hung 'em for ya," Raph replied. "I bet it'll go faster stringing all those wires through the sewers if there are two of us."

Don frowned. "Sure, but this is the worst part. It's tedious, not to mention gross - if it's anything like the last two times, I'm going to have to crawl around in all the places nobody would ever want to go to keep my cords from being easily found or disrupted. I'd understand if you don't want to. You should call Casey, see if he wants to hang out."

Raph shook his head. "It ain't that I don't trust you, Donnie. But let's just say I don't like the idea of you wandering around on your own without backup."

Part of the reason Raph had left Usagi's world was as he had said - a desire to get home and reconnect with the hard edges and sweat and grime of their world. But part of it had been to keep an eye on Donatello - and not just to keep him from working too much.

More than anyone else, Raph could guess just how much stuff Don would have to scrounge from junkyards and alleyways to get the lair up and running, and Raph hadn't liked the idea of Don going out without any backup night after night. Too much could go wrong. And while the sewers were usually safer than the junkyards and rooftops where the Foot or the Purple Dragons might be waiting, after the destruction caused by the Shredder in the other dimension's Technodrome, there was a lot more activity underground than usual, from inspectors looking for damage to scroungers hoping to find leftover technology.

That won Raph a small smile from his brother. "Fair enough. Well, let's see how far we get with the supplies I have now. We might not even make it to the end of this shift before we have to go topside."

Don turned and led the way back to the nook he had claimed for his computers, which was also currently serving as his center of operations. Though the space looked to be in greater disarray than most of the rest of the lair - and given that half the lair was still piled with boxes and random furniture, that was saying something - Don knew exactly where to lay his hands on anything he might need within the chaos. It took him just a few minutes to drop a couple of odds and ends into the bag he was currently still borrowing from April, having not yet found a duffle he liked. Then he shouldered the bag, slid his bo into place, and scooped up an old milk crate trailing wires and stacked high with the tiny sensors and cameras he had found, saved, or built.

Without a word, Raph took the box from him. "Lead the way, Donnie."

-==OOO==-

An hour later, Raph was regretting his choice not to kick back for a while.

"You really weren't kidding about this being disgusting," he said, trying hard not to think about the soft wetness under his feet.

"Sorry," Don said. "But I know you don't want to trade, either."

"Nope!"

The only thing that made Raph feel better about standing knee-deep in tepid water that smelled worse than a latrine on a construction site - and very possibly contained similar material - was the fact that Don had it worse. Raph had to stand in substances better not considered holding a box up over his head, but Donatello was up in the ceiling braced between two pipes stringing cords.

The first time Don had come down from a similar perch with a centipede crawling down his shoulder and at least four spiders clinging to his head, Raph had known anything, even standing in waste, was better than _that_.

Donatello didn't tease his brother for his fear of bugs. Honestly, Don wasn't so fond of them, either, but he'd crawled through the pipes of the sewers too many times, putting his hands in spots that made that bug scene from the second Indiana Jones movie look positively welcoming, and had learned to deal. He wore goggles to protect his eyes, kept his mouth clamped shut whenever possible, and forced himself not to think about how many legs were crawling on him at any given point in time.

"Ha! Got it!"

Raph shifted the box and held it even higher and Don reached down to pluck a sensor from the top of the pile. This one hadn't even needed a bracket hung, so he simply had to plug it in and tie it with a few lengths of flexible metal to the correct spot. As soon as it was secure and he had it powered on, he dropped from the ceiling into a pool of light from one of the safety lanterns that partially forced back the underground darkness.

Don sighed. "Six down, lots more to go," he said, shaking his head and brushing off bugs and trying not to think about them too hard or it would make his skin crawl. He also turned off his headlamp to avoid blinding his brother.

Raph forded the trickle of unsanitary water and wiped his feet on the vaguely-drier wall. "I see what you mean about the cords." He held out the box. "Only got two left."

"Hmm." Don considered the cords and their lengths. "I think the best thing to do is to run those from one of my relays to the near points in the northwest quadrant. Then we'll be done with that whole side."

"How soon do we gotta call Leo and check in?" Raph asked.

Don glanced at the watch he wore under his left wristband. "Less than two hours. I guess that means we'll get this done and try to hit a junkyard really fast."

Raph shrugged. "We could just call them later. What's the difference?"

"If we don't call in when he's expecting us, Leo will send Mikey through to make sure we're okay. And you _know_ what that means."

Raph's face wrinkled in distaste. "Good point. Okay. Let's hurry. I don't want Mikey anywhere _near_ my bike, even if it's in pieces. With my luck, he'll take something apart and it'll explode the first time we try it out."

Don smiled. "Better than if Leo tried to 'help.' He and Sensei both make everything worse when they try to assist on repairs. That one toaster never stood a chance." He started walking, Raph at his elbow.

"Good thing you got me, then."

Don laughed. "Yes, it is. I entirely agree."

After a moment, Raph asked, "Did you do all this by yourself last time? Why didn't you ask for help?"

Don shrugged. "Didn't have to. The pumping station was in a pretty isolated spot with only a few nearby tunnels. We only needed a handful of sensors so it didn't take too long. But the time before, yeah. However, I built up the sensor net around that lair over time instead of all at once. This is the first time I've had to make such a project out of it."

"Huh. Well, if you ever gotta do this again, make sure you recruit Mikey. And Leo. It's _definitely_ their turn."

Don huffed a laugh. "Sorry you got stuck with this."

"I ain't happy about it, Donnie-boy, but I ain't gonna just abandon you to do this on your own," Raph said. "Just make sure next time you get those two doofuses to take their turn."

"I will."

Raph was quiet a moment before he said, "Maybe when those two come back we should teach them how to do some of this stuff. Even just the basics, ya know? Then you wouldn't be on the hook for everything all the time."

Don raised an eye-ridge in surprise. "But I'm not. You've been a huge help so far."

"Exactly. You've got a list longer than your bo of chores that need doing to get the lair into shape, and half of 'em anybody could do with a hammer and a little knowhow. If Leo and Mike were here, they'd probably weasel out of anything harder than building shelves. Even _Casey_ can do more than build shelves. There's no reason for you to be stuck with the rest of this crud on your own."

"If Leo were the one building doors, he'd spend days getting each one perfect the same as he did the paper screens for Master Splinter's room," Don pointed out. "And I don't want Mikey anywhere near the heating system. With his luck, he'd reroute it somehow and we'd all die of poisonous gas."

Raph chuckled. "You ain't wrong, but still don't seem fair. Just because you're our only geek doesn't mean you should have to do all your geeking by yourself. Don't master chefs have servants to do all the easy stuff like making toast so the experts can do the fancy meat?"

"Kitchen staff," Don corrected automatically. But he smiled. "Are you calling me a master geek?"

Raph grinned. "You are _king_ of the geeks, Donnie."

"Well, then you can be my duke. We'll make Leo Heir since that's what he's good at, but you can keep all the real power."

"And Mikey's the court jester."

"Obviously."

A sudden shrill ringing brought both ninja up short, stopping and tensing for a fight reflexively before either could even realize it was a Shell Cell going off.

Raph's hands were full so Don grabbed his off his belt. "Hello?"

"Don!" April's voice came over the phone breathless and quick. "We could really use some help right about now!"

"What's wrong? Are you okay?" He gave Raph a sharp look and started to run. Raph dropped the crate and took off after him.

"We're fine for now, but it looks like we're about to have company. _Lots_ of company. I think the entire Purple Dragons gang is out front. And guess who's leading them?"

"Hun," Donatello said, cold sinking into his stomach like a stone. "I thought he got cleaned up with the rest of the mutants after the Technodrome thing."

"So did we, but here he is. You better get over here fast. I don't think they're going to be happy just standing outside yelling for long."

Donatello was already skidding around a corner, mentally mapping the quickest way to April and Casey's home. "We'll be there in a few minutes. Stay out of the line of fire if you can."

"We'll try!"

Don slammed the phone back into his belt. "We've got to hurry."

"Hun means Purple Dragons scum," Raph growled. "Are Casey and April okay?"

"For now," Don said. He glanced at his bag. "I wasn't expecting a fight."

Raph shot him a look. "That mean you don't have all your usual tricks?"

Don managed to increase his speed while giving his brother an annoyed glare. "Of _course_ not. It just means I don't have any _extra_ tricks. Who do you think I am?"

Raph snorted. "You're Donatello, all right." He dropped his fingers to where his sai waited on his belt. "And who needs tricks when we've got something way better?"

"Our charming attitudes?"

"And a side of shell-kicking action!"


	4. Pains

I know this one is a little short. There's a reason for that – the next chapter really needs to be all one. Trust me on that.

I continue to be BLOWN AWAY by all of you who read and review and favorite and leave kudos. You are AMAZING.

Anybody figured out the theme song to this chapter yet? If you haven't, it's going to be very, very relevant next week.

Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 4: Pains

* * *

"I can't _believe_ I listened to you!"

Donatello activated the portal stick and sighed. "Raph, what do you want me to say? You've already made your point – several times."

Raphael loomed at Donatello's side. "Maybe if I say it a few _more_ times, you won't get it _wrong_ again."

Don's own frayed patience slipped and he glared at his brother. "I don't make the same mistake twice, Raph. That's _you_ who tries the same boneheaded thing again and again and it never works out."

Raph's hands curled into fists and he raised them threateningly.

"Don? Raph? You guys okay?" Leo's voice and frown cut through the brewing violence as the portal stick connected to the receiver. He was sitting on the floor of one of the airy rooms in the Daimyo's keep where he had set the receiver up as though he were holding an audience with anyone from the han.

"No, we _ain't_ okay!" Raph turned away from Don. " _Brainiac_ here let the Purple Dragons get away!"

Leonardo's frown darkened. He shifted his eyes to his purple-clad brother. "Donatello?"

Don was used to his brothers' irritation with him – he lived with it on a full-time basis whenever something important like the TV or the heater was broken, and it also often manifested within ten minutes of him attempting to explain anything technical and complicated – but he was not usually the simultaneous target of Raph's fury or Leo's disapproval. However, he raised his chin and looked back calmly.

"April called us. The Purple Dragons had decided to menace her place in force. There were probably about fifty of them gathered out front, armed, looking like they were getting ready for a small-scale gang war of their own. And Hun was with them."

"Hun?" Leo's frown turned to surprise. "I thought he got scooped up with all the other mutants from the Technodrome."

"So'd I, but there he was, large as life and twice as ugly," Raph grumbled. "Giving a bad name to turtles everywhere."

Leonardo held up a hand. "What happened next?"

Donatello resumed his explanation. "Using stealth, we were able to observe the situation. The Purple Dragons weren't trying to hide or stick to the alley. They were right out in the street. And it's not like April's place is isolated – half the neighbors were watching from their windows."

"Donnie's _brilliant_ idea was to sit there and not do _anything_ ," Raph put in sharply. "Because _ignoring_ slimeballs makes them go away so much better!"

"Raphael!" Leo's tone was strident and impatient. "Enough." Then, after a moment, "Why don't you come through and talk to me?" Leo gave Don a slightly sympathetic look.

Don wasn't sure if he was grateful for some space from his furious brother or annoyed that Leo was effectively giving Raph a platform to make his case unimpeded.

Raph glared at Donatello once more before stomping to the gateway created by the portal stick. In a moment he had stepped through, landing just on the other side of the receiver so that Donatello's own view was filled with his shell.

In the room with Leo now, Raph's words were clipped and angry.

"Just when we got there, they tossed a huge rock through the window. Not the shop window – the big one upstairs. The glass broke and hit April and Casey and cut them up pretty bad. Then they started lightin' a molotov. And _he_ was gonna let them throw it and burn down April and Casey's place while they were bleeding inside it!"

"That's not true!" Don snapped from back in the lair.

Leo pushed Raph to one side so he could see them both.

Don would have crossed his arms but he was holding the portal stick, so he settled for returning Raph's fiery anger with some of his own. "I just didn't think it would help matters if we went out on the street _in the open_. The sun hadn't even set fully yet! _Anyone_ could have seen us. Then the cops would have been looking for _three_ mutants, not just one!"

"Don, hang on." Leo's voice was even. "In order, please. So, they broke the window and were getting ready to set a fire. What happened next?"

"We tossed some shurikens to take out the improvised firebombs," Don said, trying to ignore Raph who was physically shoving against Leo's arm to try to block him. "Raph dropped down into the blind alley across the street and yelled at the Dragons to 'come and get him' or something and a bunch of them broke off to charge him."

"You should'a been with me!"

"You're lucky I wasn't!"

"Easy," Leo said, actually standing to better control Raph without losing sight of Don. "Okay, so then what?"

Raph's fingers clenched and unclenched. "Whaddaya _think_? I kicked some shell. On my own. Because _somebody_ wasn't watching my back."

Leonardo's gaze sharpened and he looked accusingly back at Don. "Is that true?"

"Of _course_ not!" Don yelled. "I just didn't think it did us any good if we were both in the blind alley where we couldn't keep track of everything!"

Leo nodded. "Okay. So you stayed on the roof and kept a lookout?"

Don frowned. "I _also_ dropped smoke pellets strategically to keep Raph hidden from the street and to disorient the Dragons. And, _oh_ , took out as many as Raph did with a firehose, which _also_ , incidentally, kept Hun from cornering you!"

"You should'a let him come at me. There's a list of guys the world would be way better if they had their heads bashed in and Hun is at the top of it!" Raph returned.

"True as that is," Leo put in, "Hun's always been a tough opponent when all four of us were together and he wasn't mutated to twice the strength. Trying to take him on alone was stupid, Raph."

Raph hauled back as if to punch Leo but the blue-banded turtle turned away from him and faced Don instead. "So when did the police get involved?"

"Only a minute or two after I started using the firehose. Some of the neighbors must have called 911 because there were cops everywhere in no time. They had their hands full with Hun, though, so most of the Dragons got away. Raph wanted to chase after them -"

"We _should_ have!"

"-but I talked him into coming with me to make sure nobody had gotten into April's building when we weren't looking. We bandaged them up a little before the cops knocked on the door for a statement and then we took the tunnel out of there."

"Are April and Casey okay?"

Don nodded. "They both needed some stitches, but that was it. One beat cop stayed on their corner to make sure nobody else messed with the building while they went to the hospital. April promised to call when they get home."

"And were you gonna mention that not only did most of the Purple Dragons get away, but Hun managed to bust up some cops too?" Raph sneered. "If we'd taken him down, they wouldn't have been stuck trying to deal with him."

Don sighed. "Raph, we would _never_ have taken Hun down with just the two of us, and you know it."

"He's probably right," Leo said, facing his angry brother. "You're just mad because Don came up with the same plan I would have and it was the best plan possible."

"Says you."

" _Yes_ says me," Leo shot back. "You both got in and out of a dangerous situation where you were badly outnumbered and you risked exposure. You kept them busy long enough for the cops to show up." Leo glanced to Don. "Did they get Hun?"

He nodded. "Pumped him full of tranq darts and carted him off in a reinforced truck."

"There. See?" Leo crossed his arms. "I know it's been a while since you've had a turtle tantrum, but it's not fair to take it out on Donnie for being responsible and trying to rein you in."

Raph's face twisted with sudden rage. "I'll show _you_ a tantrum!"

He leaped at Leo, swinging. Leonardo calmly blocked the incoming punch and twisted away. Over his shoulder he called, "Donnie, give us a couple of hours and call back, okay? I think we'll be a little more ready to talk then."

Donatello nodded and powered down the portal stick, feeling a sense of loss as the connection vanished.

 _On the plus side, now Raph can work out all the anger he didn't get to pound through Hun's skull with someone who actually likes fighting with him._

He sighed.

 _And now the lair is empty and quiet. Too quiet, really. But I'll make use of the time while I've got it._

Don let his feet carry him to the partially-constructed Shell Cycle. He settled down beside the machinery and dropped into the very familiar and soothing mechanical work. Every minute of tinkering and building bled stress and tension away, and while part of his brain worked on the bike, the rest worked on his feelings.

 _Raph's just Raph. He probably came out of the egg swinging and hasn't ever stopped. And without Leo here to argue with every ten minutes, I guess I should have expected eventually he'd find a reason to blow up at me._

 _I wasn't wrong, though. It would have been a disaster if we had exposed ourselves to the neighbors, and with the cops still looking for other leftover mutants from the Technodrome, it is not a good time to get spotted. Leo knows that. He'll handle it._

 _Maybe this will be good for both of them. Raph would explode if he couldn't butt heads with someone at least once a day, and for the most part I haven't been giving him much of a target. I'm surprised he hasn't torn up anything we've been working on. And Leo would probably die if he didn't lecture someone once a day, too, and I bet everybody at the castle could use a break._

The memory of the people at the castle, though, and their feelings towards him left Don's throat feeling tight. He forced his thoughts elsewhere.

 _I hope Leo isn't lecturing Mikey too much. Oh, wait. Mikey was going to go stay at Mitsu's village for a week or something to show her the comics we sent him. I hope he's having fun._

 _I hope he doesn't get his heart broken when he comes home._

A tiny mew caught Don's attention. He looked up to see Klunk batting at one of the screws at the edge of the tarp upon which the Shell Cycle was beginning to take shape.

"Hey little guy," he said, wiggling his fingers at the cat. With April and Casey both headed to the hospital, Don had decided to bring Mikey's kitty home to look after him – which served the additional purpose of giving Don something to hang onto while Raph was raging in his ear.

Klunk obligingly left the screw alone and came to rub against Don's arm, purring loudly.

"I guess Mikey will be glad to see you whenever he comes back, anyway. He does seem to have a thing for orange cats. And isn't that just disturbing as shell?"

Klunk turned in a circle and settled down with his warm, fuzzy body pressed to Donatello's side.

 _Mikey knows he'll have to leave eventually. He'll be okay. And Raph will be okay when he cools down, even if he doesn't admit I was right. He'll probably volunteer for more standing in gross water just to make it up to me._

 _It'll be fine. Maybe we all just need a little space sometimes so we don't drive each other so crazy. I know I do. Good thing I've got a lab._

 _I've just got to get this lair up to speed before everybody comes home. That'll make it a lot easier to say goodbye to Usagi's world and get back to our lives here._

-==OOO==-

Michelangelo laughed at Yoshi as he finished relating one of the village's funniest stories about Kyoya-san who lived at the edge of town and never seemed to smile at anybody. He ruffled the kitten's furry head when he sat down beside him.

"Sometime I'll dig out that picture of Leo from when we used his shell as a floor waxer and show you. He might be the great and powerful Heir, but he still looked like a doofus spinning around with a mop on his back."

Across the table, Mitsu smiled softly. "As much as that might amuse us, I think it would be improper to dishonor the young Lord so."

"Ah, he won't mind. Leo's got a stick up his shell, but he's got a sense of humor, too. Trust me. He wouldn't see it as a real loss of honor."

Yoshi peered at him, his dark eyes wide. "Maybe it would make him lose his honor and he wouldn't even notice!"

Mikey shrugged. "I don't think that's possible. Leo doesn't lose things because he notices _everything_."

"But even the wisest cannot see what is behind the curtain," Mitsu said. "The young Lord may not realize what he is blind to, nor what he may lose."

"Well, if he does lose anything, you'll hear the yelling all the way from the castle," Mikey said.

Mitsu nodded. "This I do believe. Your brother's upraised voice is a thing of great force."

"Which one?"

"Both of them."

Mikey gave a dramatic groan. "You got that right! And they wonder why I spend so much time out here! It's tiring being the one turtle yelled at all the time."

Mitsu lifted the teapot and carefully refilled Michelangelo's cup and Yoshi's before her own. "Well, your presence here has done much to improve our village, so I must be grateful for whatever it is that draws you here."

Mikey blushed but hid it with a grin. "It must be thanks to your tea! Obviously!" And he drank deeply of the cup, the heat burning his tongue not unlike that which burned in his chest.

Outside the door, there was a good-natured greeting shouted and Mikey gulped the rest of his tea and got to his feet just as Mitsu's father entered the house.

"Good evening, Konishi-san," he said with a quick bow.

"Good evening, Hamato-san," the village headman replied, giving a bow of his own.

Mitsu also stood and bowed low. "Hello, father. How is Fumiko-san?"

"She is well. She was grateful for the meal you cooked, and I believe she was appreciative of the company as well. It will be many more weeks before her son returns." Konishi moved to take his place at the head of the table. The dishes of the evening meal were long gone, but a cup remained at his seat and Mitsu quickly poured the hot tea into it.

"I should be going," Mikey said. He turned to Mitsu. "Thank you for the tea." And he winked at Yoshi. "And thank you for the stories."

Konishi dipped his head. "May you have a pleasant night, Hamato-san."

"You, too, Konishi-san." And Mikey made his escape. He almost bounced out the door and into the street, jerking about as though he had bugs crawling on him. It took him several steps of wiggling before he could get himself to calm.

It wasn't that Michelangelo didn't like Mitsu's father, the village headman. But, rather, it was that he had no idea how to impress him. He _liked_ Mitsu, liked her _a lot_. He didn't even necessarily know why. She never really laughed at his jokes and she had only been politely interested in his comic books, though she seemed intrigued by a few of the characters.

 _But maybe that's what happens with a big crush at first sight. It just happens. And it sure happened to me!_

Mikey fought the urge to giggle. He rounded the main storage building where the village kept their tools in winter and rice after the harvest to the small empty house he had been offered whenever he stayed in the area. It was drafty and he only had one lantern and the door didn't quite shut, but he didn't care. It was within the village's walls, which made it safer than camping alone out in the woods, and it was close.

Close to Mitsu's house.

But as much as his feelings were powerful and completely without reason, they only went so far. Mikey wanted to be near Mitsu, wanted to listen to her talk, wanted to make her laugh, wanted to show her the things he liked best. But he didn't yet know if he liked her enough to dare anything more, to actually admit something.

 _Can't get anywhere without her dad's permission, though, and I am so not ready for that._

So he remained in a glowy, awkward limbo between a profound, maddening crush and fear of actually doing anything about it. For the moment, he was content to let his heart twist in unfamiliar feelings and just stay close to their target.

Michelangelo entered his house and lit his little lantern, the light throwing back the shadows and warming the bare room at least a little. But he didn't need more than that; early fall was mild and between his sleeping bag and the clothing it was becoming second-nature to wear all the time, he wasn't particularly cold even with the drafty house.

 _It's super weird to think about going to bed so early, but it's not like I can sleep through dawn with the sun coming in all the cracks. And the roosters making all that noise. And everybody getting up and hammering and everything. Raph could probably sleep through it. He sleeps through his own snoring._

 _I wonder what Raph's doing back in New York. I hope he and Donnie are having fun and not killing each other._

 _Next time I go back to the castle, I'll ask Leo to see if they would send me some more comics. I've read these about ten times now._

He settled into his sleeping bag.

 _I miss Klunk. It's not the same without kitty feet trying to bat my toes and falling asleep on my plastron._

 _I wonder if I could bring Klunk here. He wouldn't like the ride to get here, but he'd love being out in the open where he could hunt all the mice and bugs and everything else._

 _I'll try it! Casey and April don't really like cats anyway, and I need my kitty buddy and I bet he needs his Mikey scritches!_

He took a deep breath and deliberately forced his body to relax while keeping his senses alert. It was a trick all four turtles had learned, the ability to sleep lightly enough to be woken by danger. Mikey wasn't as good at it as Leo or Raph, but he was good enough that he trusted he would perceive a threat before it could get to him in the house, and probably before it could get too far into the village. There were always two people awake all night at the one break in the village's palisade, trained to give warning if there was any danger. But Mikey figured he was the most able fighter in the village, so he intended to rely on his own skills to guard them, too.

 _Imagine if those bandits came back and I kicked shell in front of Mitsu…_

The daydream lulled him to sleep and turned into a series of true dreams. The night passed filled with the images and adventures only Michelangelo's mind could conjure, from a daring escape by the Turtle Titan from a sinking globe into an ocean of lemon juice, to trying to help Cody Jones keep a thunderstorm from getting caught in a gravity well. Just as Mikey was about to lose the thunderstorm, he heard a voice that wasn't Cody's breaking over the headset in his orange spacesuit.

 _Beware the easiest path, for it lies._

He didn't have time to puzzle out that randomness – the black hole was about to swallow the storm and Mikey needed that storm to give to Cody as a belated birthday present! He was just reaching for the iridescent lasso he'd brought into space to grab it when a sound shattered the image.

The crowing rooster jarred Mikey awake, the dream slipping from him like dew rolling off the grass.

"I wonder if I can introduce a new tradition around here – rooster stew," he grumbled.

As he rose and dressed and stretched and prepared for the day, Michelangelo had the oddest feeling that he was forgetting something important. But if he'd forgotten, it probably wasn't _that_ important, right?

-==OOO==-

There came a light tap on the door.

"Come in," Splinter called.

Leonardo entered, bowing. "Good morning, Master Splinter."

"Good morning, my son. Please, join me."

Leo smiled and moved across the floor to kneel beside the tray of breakfast that was still steaming. "I have already eaten, Sensei, but I will gladly share a cup of tea." He carefully poured two cups of tea while his father took up a bowl of rice.

"How are Donatello and Raphael faring? I am sorry I was so tired last night as to miss their call."

"It's okay, Master Splinter. I'm sure they would rather you get some rest and have me take the receiver so it didn't disturb you. Actually, Raph is here."

"Oh?"

While his father picked at the light breakfast food he was able to eat, Leonardo detailed what had happened the night before.

"So, Raph and I sparred for a bit and I invited him to stay while he cools down. Donnie doesn't need Raph in one of his moods stomping around and breaking something valuable. He's actually still asleep. I guess he and Don got off the early morning schedule pretty fast."

Splinter smiled. "That does not surprise me. Neither of them have ever been fond of waking with the dawn." Then his smile fell. "I would like to speak to Raphael when he is ready. I know he means well, but even for his usual temperament, such a rash choice seems...uncharacteristic."

"When I called Donnie back, he said he thought Raph was missing arguing with me." Leo smiled. "Maybe it all just came out at once."

"Perhaps."

"Anyway, after we went a few rounds, he calmed down a lot. He isn't ready to tell Donnie he was wrong yet, but he mellowed out a lot quicker than usual."

Splinter nodded and took up his teacup. "Perhaps the soothing atmosphere of this world has helped to tame his restless spirit."

"Maybe." Leo took a sip of tea. "I know not having to live in hiding because we're different has been good for me and Mikey, anyway."

"But not your brother Donatello."

Leo sighed. "No, I guess not. Donnie's just...different. From all of us. He always has been."

Splinter chuckled. "My son, I know that better than even you. You are all unique, but I believe Donatello would be unique in any world. You are a fine warrior and an honorable leader, and while your skill as both may be uncommon, there are other warriors and leaders against whom you may compare. There are other passionate fighters like Raphael, and others filled with laughter and merriment like Michelangelo. But never have I encountered the mix of creativity, innate intelligence, and selflessness that defines Donatello."

Leo considered that for a moment. "I guess it's really too bad he feels so uncomfortable here. He deserves to live in a world where he doesn't have to survive by scrounging and hiding."

"You all do, my son. And I am pleased we have found such a refuge here, temporary as it may be." Splinter drained the last of his tea and set the cup down. "Now, let us talk on other matters. What will you be practicing this morning with Raphael? I would like to know how frustrated with you he will be when he comes to talk with me after."

-==OOO==-

It took Raphael four days before he asked Leo to open a gateway back to the lair. He had spoken to Donatello on the second day, grumbling something vaguely resembling an apology, but he just hadn't been ready to return.

Donatello told him to take all the time he wanted – having a cranky turtle around was not actually preferable to the quiet.

However, Raph didn't come back alone.

"Wow. It's really taking shape in here."

Don looked up from his computer station with surprise. "Leo?"

"Hey, Don." Leo waved as the magical doorway shut behind him. "I hope you don't mind me dropping in."

Don grinned and abandoned his work, striding over to clasp his brother's shoulder. "It's your home, too, Leo." Then he turned to Raphael. "Hey. Uh, Raph? I…"

"Donnie, it's my fault. We're square, okay?" Raph remained looking at his feet.

Don nodded and clapped a hand on his shoulder, too. "Sure, bro."

Leo smiled at them both. "Good. Anyway, I'm here with sort of a shopping list. I can't stay long, but I thought it would be easier if there were two of us moving stuff back and forth."

"What sort of stuff?" Don wanted to know

Raph snorted. "Oh, wait 'til you hear it. Mikey wants half his room. And Klunk."

"Really?"

Leo shrugged. "I guess. I tried to talk him out of it, but he was so insistent he stayed at the castle instead of going back to Mitsu's village right away. I told him we'd try it, but if things go wrong and Klunk gets eaten by a wolf, it's his own fault."

"O...kay." Don felt more than a little confused, but he decided to trust that his brothers knew what they were doing. And with no word yet from the Shogun on the border situation or a new Heir to take Leo's place with Lord Kawauso, Don decided it wasn't too strange that his family might well want a few more familiar things around them.

"Don't worry." Leo patted Don on the back as he pulled out the list. "I won't mess up any of your hard work, I promise."

Leo strode off into the lair, scooping up a jumbo garbage bag as he went.

Don glanced at Raph. "Does he really need a sack that big for everything?"

Raph smirked. "Honestly, what he needs is a wheelbarrow."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously. I think Mikey would'a asked for the couch and his bed, too, except Leo wouldn't give him a cart to haul it all to Mitsu's place."

Don frowned and something in his stomach twinged with anxiety. "Is this really a good idea?"

Raph shrugged. "I dunno. I can't figure why they want stuff so bad when they can live like royalty in the castle. Well, except for Master Splinter. I bet he's bored out of his skull. He asked for a lot of books."

Donatello let out a breath. "Well, I guess if they're willing to move it over there, they can move it back, too, when we all come home for good. I've got enough to do without being their knicknack delivery turtle."

That won a laugh from Raphael. "Don't worry, brainiac. If this isn't the end of it, I'll take care of it."

Neither of them could have realized how prophetic that statement would be in the end.

Over the course of the next two weeks, while Donatello hunted through every dumpster and junkyard he could find for supplies and parts, Raphael found himself appointed family errand boy. It started small after that first trip – Leo would mention on a daily check-in that he'd forgotten a book on swords he wanted to show Usagi, or Mikey would have sent a message asking for just one more stack of comics.

Raph started getting in the habit of using the portal stick to travel to the other dimension each night during the check-in to deliver whatever had been requested, and within a few days he found it easier to just stay overnight and wander back in the morning after breakfast; this meant he even moved some of his own stuff over, including his favorite punching bag for his morning workout.

But as the days went on and Leo's requests kept coming, Don started to get worried.

"You know," he said while Raph was up in his room getting something he wanted to show Sato Takeko, leaving Don and Leo alone to talk across the portal stick's connection, "it feels a lot less like you're getting comfortable over there and more like you're really moving in _there_ instead of _here_."

Leo shrugged. "It can't be helped, Donnie. Master Splinter will be sick for a long time, and at this rate I'm going to be the Heir for at least another few months. So, in a sense, we _are_ kind of moving in over there. Just...think of it like us staying at April's until we found a new spot."

With the portal stick balanced on a nearby table, Don crossed his arms against his plastron.

"You know, with as easy as it is to go back and forth, there's no reason you couldn't live here with me instead and commute that way instead of hauling everything you own across dimensions."

Leo shook his head. "It won't work. I have to be here in case there's another attack. And Mikey is doing enough commuting back and forth as it is without having to cross worlds, too." He looked at his brother sympathetically. "I know it's annoying, but you won't have to put up with it forever. At some point, everything will settle and we'll quit this back-and-forth stuff."

 _Yeah, because there won't be anything left here besides technology. And me_ , Don thought with bitterness.

Raph came back down at that moment with a sack over one shoulder and a long box in his hands.

Don stared at it. "That's…"

Raph shrugged. "Master Splinter missed having the relics from Master Yoshi nearby, so I said I'd bring 'em. It's just his picture and the other little stuff. Usagi's building him an altar of his own in the inkhouse tomorrow."

 _But...that's our Clan heritage. Can we really just...skip across dimensions with it? Except...well, I guess the relics should be where the Clan is. And the Clan is there. Except me._

When Raph left that night, Donatello couldn't suppress the shiver that hit him in his brother's wake.

 _To think I wanted quiet. Now it's an emptier quiet than it's ever been._

A terrible suspicion began to grow in Donatello's mind.

 _No. No way. I've just got to trust that everything will be fine._


	5. Worse

Well, we've reached the end of Act 2. There will be a break next week while I'm recovering from 3 concerts, 2 auctions, and about 20 extra hours of volunteering. But after that we'll be on to Act 3.

For those who missed it, the theme-song for this Act is "M.I.N.E. (End This Way)" by Five Finger Death Punch. Honestly, I think it's one of the most appropriate of all the theme-songs for the entire series. I strongly recommend it.

Also, if you've left me reviews and I haven't replied, please accept my apologies! This doesn't happen on AO3 that I can see, but I haven't been getting notifications from FFnet and so I think I've missed at least one person. When I get back with Act 3, I'll try to do better about making sure I'm replying to every comment. If a chapter goes up and you don't get a response from me in the same day, shoot me a DM. Okay? I love chatting with all of you about what you think as this story unravels.

Warning: There is MUCH discussion of extremely unsanitary bio-hazards (the sort you might expect to find in a sewer, really) in this chapter. I kept the details to a minimum, but be prepared for a serious ick factor.

Talk to you in two weeks!

Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 5: Worse

* * *

A week later, everything fell apart – literally and figuratively.

It had been close to five months since Usagi had first asked the Hamato Clan to journey to his world and assist him. Donatello had been home for a little over a month, but he was the only one. Raphael had spent about half of every day in the lair and the other half back in Usagi's dimension for most of that time; Leonardo had only visited once or twice, as he was hesitant to leave the Daimyo or the han for long, and Michelangelo and Splinter had not returned at all.

The lair was just beginning to take shape, with its most important features like the sensor net and the utilities up and running – what remained were all the tedious details and setup that transformed a stable, somewhat-fortified place into a home. Meanwhile, the Shogun had sent a message to Lord Kawauso to await further orders while he dealt directly with Nezumi, and the Daimyo had not yet found or named another Heir.

In other words, everything was in a holding pattern, as though waiting for something to give way.

What no one _expected_ to give way was the sewer main that ran just above the ceiling of the lair.

Donatello was sleeping uneasily when he first heard the creak of pipes above; he found he could not sleep particularly well now that Raph was gone overnight. Although the lair had all the alarms and sensors he'd built so far functioning correctly, there was still an awful sort of vulnerability in being alone. All the previous lairs had been attacked at some point – so Don feared falling too deeply asleep and missing the alarms if they sounded in this incarnation, too.

However, even if he had been profoundly asleep, he wouldn't have missed the low groan of metal fatigue that echoed through the empty lair.

Don leaped out of bed, grabbing his bo on the way. He sprinted to the door of his mostly-still-filled-with-boxes room and ran for the light-switch along the wall by the stairs down to the lower level.

As light flooded the lair, Don looked up to the ceiling.

"Oh, this is not good," he said aloud. He could see a crack in the plaster panel above the center of the lair, and water was starting to drip from it.

Donatello had exactly enough time to consider how bad things were about to get before he was proven exponentially incorrect.

When the sewer main gave way, it unleashed a torrent of filthy wastewater, smashing through several ceiling tiles and pouring revolting fluid and not-fluid in a truly horrible waterfall right into the lair.

Donatello didn't have time to delay. And though it was absolutely, positively the _last_ thing he wanted to do, he had no choice but to throw himself right into dealing with the river of sewage. Don spared just enough time to duck back into his bedroom for the most necessary supplies. In one bag he'd dropped there only a week or so before he found one of his old dolphin tanks complete with mask, headlamp, and goggles that had survived the destruction of the last lair. It didn't have a full store of oxygen, but hopefully it had enough. Then he grabbed for his upstairs toolkit.

Thinking of what he would have to do, Donatello stripped out of all his pads and even his belt and mask. Then he emptied the toolkit of everything he thought he might need and tossed it all into a plastic bag that he taped to his waist like a pocket.

The only way for Donatello to get where he was going was from above, so he set off for one of the heating ducts that was big enough and well-mounted enough to hold his weight briefly. He crawled into the shaft, resolutely _not_ looking down at the floor of the lair that was rapidly becoming a river of brown, nightmare-fuel liquid. From within the heating duct, he made his way to the top of the lair and popped off an upper grate to get into the tunnel above.

Sure enough, a pipe at least as big around as Donatello's shell was wide had ruptured.

 _It's been probably two minutes. Not enough for anyone in the city to have noticed, but the drop in pressure at the treatment plant might draw some attention if they're watching for it. Even so, it's the middle of the night. They won't check the equipment and dispatch anyone to this area of the sewers until the morning shift. I've got a couple of hours to get this repaired before anyone starts thinking to poke around down here._

Because that was the real risk – of course Donatello was _not_ happy about the idea of having to replace whatever was ruined or contaminated by the wastewater below, but things could be replaced and contamination could be cleaned. What could not be undone was humans exploring this area under the city and finding the lair. And maybe its inhabitant.

It wasn't just to have indoor plumbing that Donatello had taught himself how to fix and manage the sewer pipes; for years, he had been servicing the entire sewer within range of the lair just to make sure everything was working perfectly and no one would ever have cause to come looking. In recent years, he had even forged inspection orders and reports and had dumped them into the appropriate computer systems so that city officials or the various agencies that coordinated care over the sewers would find the confirmations that all appropriate work was done and there was no reason to send anyone down.

 _It's a good thing the sewers in New York are handled by so many different agencies. If it was one group, somebody would probably figure out that nobody was getting down into a particular area and they might come poking around. But because it's all those different groups sharing responsibilities, they all assume someone else is behind the inspections and reports._

 _And that's why nobody will notice this break in time to send anyone before I get it repaired._

 _Of course, it would be easier to do this if I could shut off the flow upstream, but if I do that without opening up a reserve, the whole system might back up...and explode. Won't be able to hide it then._

So there was no choice.

Donning his breathing mask, Donatello crawled directly into the sludge pouring from the pipe.

 _Don't think about it. Don't think about it. If I vomit in my mask, I don't have another one. It's just like swimming in a really murky pond. That's all. Don't think about why it's warmish...or what the solid bits are. It's just mud. Just mud from a pond. It's just mud._

Donatello had perhaps never been so grateful for the mental disciplines instilled by his father. Repeating his mantra, he managed to force down his urge to retch. He crawled until he was lying directly under the pipe, its flow swirling around him as it fell towards the lair, and he pulled on a pair of old oven mitts.

 _Thank shell for all that time in the future with Cody. I don't know what I'd do without this._

Because amidst all the sightseeing, supervillain-thwarting, and future-world exploring, Donatello had spent a huge amount of time studying advanced technology too, Earth and alien, and had picked up a few tricks. The flashier stuff had gone into the computer system from the pump station lair, to say nothing of the equipment to digitize living matter and reproduce it on the internet. But he had not _only_ studied computers and engineering.

And while there were many, many things he couldn't yet recreate in his own time, this particular material was not one of them.

Don reached into the bag at his side, now soaked and slippery – _With mud_ , he told himself firmly – and grabbed the container of brightly orange goo. He also grabbed a couple of plastic sandwich bags, which he pulled over his mitts to protect them.

 _They're fine in the mud. Because it is mud. Just mud. But I do not want this stuff sinking through to my skin. So I have to move fast. It'll react with the plastic inside three minutes._

Donatello had to bring the container very close to his face to see it amidst the brown water, and he had to open it carefully, away from his body so that it wouldn't wash onto him.

The instant, the very moment he took the top off the container and some waste sluiced into it, the orange goo began to expand and heat rapidly as it reacted to the presence of water. Donatello couldn't pause, couldn't hesitate, or it would become too hot for him to touch without incurring serious injury. He scooped it up into his hands and began slathering it across the pipe, beginning at one end of the jagged hole and moving sideways.

When the orange goo came into contact with the metal, it heated even faster, hardening as it did so. Don wiped it like clay to cover and patch the hole in the pipe. As fast as he moved, the orange substance continued to get hotter and more solid and he had to race the chemical reaction or risk running out.

By the time Donatello was wiping the last bit of it that he could still mold over the far end of the crack in the pipe, his raw, burned fingers felt fused to the inside of the oven mitts and the plastic bags on the outside were stretched and melted almost to the point of uselessness. But at least the crack was completely plugged.

 _I'll have to let that finish curing and then probably weld an outside shell to reinforce the entire pipe. This section's corroded the worst, but the whole thing is weak. I'll have to build a full pipe to surround this one if I don't want a repeat of this._

 _And I do not want a repeat of this. Ever._

Donatello turned to peer downwards, the lights from the lair illuminating the space below him.

 _Looks like the world's worst swimming pool. Oh shell._

Donatello's ninja speed was the only reason he was able to crawl along the pipes reach to one of the normal tunnels with runoff flowing freely before he finally lost control of his stomach.

It felt like he was sick for hours, but it was probably only a few minutes. Don actually dropped to sit in the runoff, fully aware that it was dirty street water and probably had its own share of urine and worse in it, but it was running and it wasn't specifically waste and that made it an improvement.

 _But there's no real point in showering. Not with a whole lair to clean._

Donatello pulled himself out of the fetid water and gathered up his stuff, heading towards the front entrance of the lair.

 _I guess I'm actually glad nobody else was here. Nobody should have to deal with this. Well, me included, but I am here and I'll deal. Better me than anyone else. Imagine Master Splinter's sense of smell!_

Even so, when Donatello opened the door to the lair and a trickle of waste rolled over his feet, he almost wanted to give up. It took everything he had to rally.

 _Come on. We live in a sewer. This is part of the charming ambiance. Now get to work. The longer it stays here, the worse it'll be to clean._

He was still working hours later when Raph appeared.

Raph's habit was to use the portal stick to travel to the other dimension in the evenings, but to wait for Leonardo to use the dimensional portal spell to send him back in the mornings. Don had noticed that Leo's spell always manifested in the same spot in the lair, probably the center of the area Leo was envisioning as he cast it, so Don had made sure that area was clear, at least. Right to one side of where the magical doorway appeared, he left a chair with a face-mask on it.

"Hey Donnie! Oh _SHELL_!"

Raph stepped from the gateway and immediately clapped both hands to his face, coughing at the horrific smell. His eyes fell on the mask and he pulled it on.

"Donnie! What the _shell_ happened here?" Raph demanded.

Don looked up from where he was crawling under his computer station, pulling out cords that had been contaminated and trying to decide which, if any, he could salvage. Above his own papery mask, his eyes were red from lack of sleep and stress, and his body was streaked with the foulness that was everywhere.

"What does it _look_ like happened?" Don asked, his voice short and clipped. "A sewage line blew. Flooded the lair."

Raph couldn't bear the idea of just walking through the awfulness that was pooled across the floor. It wasn't deep, given the size of the lair, but the entire floor was wet and covered with a layer of brownish, yellowish fluid where there wasn't solid material congealed together in a disgusting mass. He crouched low and jumped, landing on the armchair at the edge of what they had planned to be the TV area. He cringed as the chair rocked and squished, but the cushion under his feet was dry.

Raph fought to get his bearings in the unexpected and incredibly nauseating situation.

"Why didn't you come get help?" he asked.

Don turned back to his work. "Tell me how quickly you and Leo would have come through if I'd woken you up in the middle of the night to tell you that we had gallons of human waste smeared all over our floor. If the Foot had attacked, you'd have moved pretty quick, but honestly, what would you have said?"

Raph cringed. "I'd have said you should take a bath and go to sleep and we'd look at it in the morning."

"Right, but by then some things would be ruined beyond saving and the contamination would have time to spread." Don sighed. "I'm sorry. It's been a long night and definitely the most repulsive of my life. I've just been in survival mode."

"I can see that." Raph looked around. The ceiling was a horror show, and so was most of the floor, but he could also tell that his brother had been working his tail off, too. Things that had stayed dry had been shoved to one side clear of the mess. Every light in the place was on and the fans had been shut down to keep from blowing the contamination everywhere. The upstairs doors had been closed and some things had been relocated up to the balcony.

Even so, it was going to be days if not weeks of work to get things back to where they were supposed to be. Raph knew that every item in the lair would have to be scrubbed and disinfected, and if it couldn't be washed thoroughly enough, like the chair on which he perched, it would have to be disposed of entirely.

"How bad is the damage?" he asked.

Don paused and sat back on his heels, his knees covered with muck. He began listing things off as his gaze swept around.

"The doors to Master Splinter's room and all the mats inside are a total loss. It's a good thing the relics weren't here or those would be gone, too. The dojo didn't have mats yet, and not a lot got in there, but I'm worried about the wooden practice weapons. The furniture is almost a total loss because I don't want to risk the wooden legs of chairs picking anything up, but the dishes will be okay to wash. The fridge should be okay if I clean it out. The bathroom is fine. All the stuff upstairs, well, I'll have to see. I've never been so glad Mikey kept all his comics in plastic boxes!"

"What about your stuff?" Raph asked.

Don's eyes closed. "My most important computer supplies were up on a table, and most of those I can clean. But everything we had out like the cords and all my new monitors are probably a bust."

Then he looked up. "Raph, I'm sorry. Your bike…"

"Yeah, I figured." His voice was low and gruff and it took a brother to hear the hurt and loss in it. But he hadn't missed that his bike had been pretty close to where the sewage had fallen from above and was coated in the stuff. Floating on a pile of offal beside it was the stained and saturated remains of what had been the To Do List.

"We'll start over as soon as we can," Don promised.

Raphael was a fearless warrior who had cut his way out of giant bug monsters, had battled mutants that exploded all over him, had faced any number of disgusting situations. And he reminded himself of it as he lowered one foot to the floor, feeling the cold, dense water cling to his skin.

"You don't have to stay," Don said quietly, watching his brother fight the urge to gag.

Raph shook his head. "I know that." He walked gingerly across the lair, avoiding the piles of more solid material as best he could. He picked up the portal stick and carried it to Don.

"Let's call Leo and let him know."

Don talked Raph through operating the portal stick as his own hands were not clean and he didn't want to ruin the thing, and in moments they were facing their brother.

"I'm really sorry this happened," Leo said after they explained – and demonstrated – the situation. "Look, if it's too much for you, come back here and get a bath, okay? This isn't something you have to handle right now."

Don rolled his eyes to Raph. "See? Predictable." He sighed. "Leo, the longer it takes to clean this up, the more contamination will spread and the harder it will be to get rid of whatever germs are currently infesting our home."

Leo looked slightly uncomfortable.

Don frowned. "Or do you not care about our home anymore?"

"It's not that I don't care. It's just...it seems stupid to worry about a place we're not going to be living in for months. And…"

Don knew Leo well enough to read what he didn't have the heart to say yet, maybe what Leo hadn't even fully realized he was feeling: _And I'm not sure I'll want to come home at all._

Raph scowled. "Well, it's great for you living all cozy over there, but those of us that gotta be here are stuck with this mess!"

"You're not really stuck there," Leo said. "It's your choice, Raph."

Raph looked down, his beak wrinkling with distaste. "Yeah, it is."

Donatello fought to keep his composure. "Look, if we ever want to have a prayer of being able to live here, it's going to take a ton of cleanup work. We need help. If you can't come, send Mikey. Or lend me somebody from there. I don't care."

Leo shrugged. "You don't want Mikey there and you know it."

"He's a doofus, not an infant!" Raph yelled. "At least send a message and ask him to get his shell in gear!"

Leo ignored the outburst. "As for anybody else, well, I'll have to ask Lord Kawauso if he minds."

Don's patience was running out. "You do that. In the meantime, I've got more cleaning to do than you can imagine, so if you're not going to help, I'll talk to you later."

Raph looked at his brother in surprise when Don used a pencil to flick the switch on the portal stick to disconnect the gateway. "You okay, bro?"

" _No_! Of _course_ I'm not okay! This...this is…" Don waved at the putrid lair. "I have to start over and I get the feeling that Leo doesn't even care anymore." He pinned Raph with a glare. "Do you think Leo even wants to come home? Ever?"

Raph opened his mouth to reply but paused. Considered. Finally shook his head. "I'd'a said he did, but now...I'm not sure. You should see him every night walking the castle walls with Honda. He...he really likes it."

Donatello felt his heart constrict. "I know. And so does Mikey." Then he met Raph's eyes, not accusingly, but frankly. "And so do you."

Raph respected his brother too much to look away, so he held Don's gaze. "Of course I do. We get to live in the open instead of underground like moles. I ain't a huge fan of the land that time forgot without TV or anything, but it's worth it to not be a freak."

Don broke eye-contact and sighed. "But I'm a freak either way."

"Yeah, you kinda are." Raph smiled. "But you're _our_ freak. So, while Leo sits on his little silk pillow and pretends to be too good to get his hands dirty, you tell me what we gotta do."

-==OOO==-

Raph stayed in the lair overnight rather than returning to Usagi's world for five full days, working steadily with Donatello to try to salvage what could be saved and restore the place as much as possible. Between the two of them, they were able to get the floor dry after another day, and they started bleaching and scrubbing everything in sight after that.

Donatello was too discouraged to be surprised when Leo eventually said he couldn't spare anyone to help and refused to come himself, even after Raph shouted creative invective at him for ten minutes. Mikey had sent back a message to the effect of, "I'll come if you REALLY REALLY want me to but I would rather risk getting clobbered by Raph than clean."

Raph sent a message back promising Mikey would get his wish.

It wasn't only being on their own that was discouraging, however. The more Raph and Don worked, the more damage they found. On the fourth day they had to tear out the cabinets Raph had built for the kitchen and scrap them. On the fifth, they began ripping plaster and drywall down, as a repulsive brown stain spread up along what had been clean walls and across the ceiling above.

And every few minutes, they found something else that had been irrevocably destroyed. When they found things that were not ruined, like Mikey's plastic-encased comics or Leo's old katana, Raph bundled them up and delivered them through the portal to Usagi's world where they would be safe and away from further contamination.

But there was no denying that this disaster dwarfed every previous loss of their lairs – at least then, it had been one attack or another that decimated their material possessions. At least then, even some things that had been smashed could be salvaged.

At least then, they could breathe the air without needing to gag shudderingly frequently.

On the afternoon of the eighth day after what they had been calling 'the flood,' that discouragement and the inevitable frustration came to a head.

Raph was looking at the parts from his Shell Cycle that they had been able to clean. It was little more than the frame and a few of the engine components. Suddenly he scooped up the frame and chucked it across the lair with a wordless shout.

Don's head poked out of the kitchen nook where he had been trying to figure out if the contamination had gotten into the wall behind the fridge. "Raph?"

"This is so _stupid_!" Raph shouted. "We shouldn't have to live like this!"

Donatello's stomach went cold. "It probably won't happen again after the fix I put into the sewer pipes overhead and around the lair…"

Raph turned on him, body coiled tight like a fist. "How many times have we saved the city or maybe the whole world? And we have to live here like _bugs_! And the very best you can say is that we _probably_ won't get buried in sewer waste _again_?"

Don moved towards him. "This world has its good points, though," Don said, hoping to stave off what he feared was coming – what, if he were honest with himself, he had feared for weeks. "TV, the internet, a Shell Cycle. Electricity, plumbing."

" _Plumbing_ ," Raph growled darkly.

"I know it's rough, but we've had it bad before."

Raph looked at him as if he had grown two heads and one was about to vomit on him. "When have we _ever_ had it this rough? When did we ever have to live in a pool of human toilet droppings?"

"But we're cleaning it. It won't be this bad forever. You'll see."

"Even if we _could_ get all the mess out of here, which I'm starting to doubt, it's just a matter of time before we get flooded with river water if it isn't sewer water, or somebody tries to blow a hole in our house because we ticked them off. The entire world is against us here, Donnie. The _entire world_!"

"What about Casey and April?" Don pointed out. "Or Leatherhead? Or our other friends?"

Raph kicked at what would have been the new Shell Cycle's exhaust pipe, sending it flying across the room after the frame. "I just can't stand it, okay? It _stinks_ here! I _hate_ the sewer and I _hate_ the city!"

"Raph, calm down," Don said, reaching for him entreatingly.

"No! It's _stupid_ to live here! Bike or no bike, I'm goin' back where I don't have to put up with this stuff!" Raph shook off his hands and took several steps back.

Donatello felt his chest constrict. "Going...back?"

"Yeah! Riding a Cycle and watching TV ain't worth having to live like trash underground. I'd rather go live like a prince with Leo."

"Raph, it's really not that bad. I mean, are you sure?"

"Yeah I'm sure! And if you know what's good for you, you'll come, too." Raph crossed his arms across his plastron. "I know you like your tech, Donnie, but you gotta admit this ain't no way to live."

"It's not about my tech, Raph. It's...this is our home! This is our world! We belong here."

"Well, maybe I don't. And sure as shell Leo don't."

"Raph…"

He turned his back. "Power up the portal stick, Don. I'm going back. You can come with me or not, but I ain't staying here in this nasty smell any more than I have to."

Donatello closed his eyes. "Okay. You go clear your head for a while. I'll see about cleaning up the flood. It'll be better when you come back."

"Yeah, _whatever_."

Don dawdled as much as he could, taking time to wash his hands and his feet and to re-don his pads and mask and fill his belt once more. He hoped that if he gave Raph a few minutes to cool down, he might change his mind.

But when he emerged, he saw that Raph had used that time to pack a bag of his own.

"Look," Raph said, gentling his voice. "You gotta admit it, Donnie. Usagi's world is better for us. We can live like real people. Even if Leo weren't the Heir, we could have a house and everything. How can you want to stay _here_?" And he looked around at the disaster that was supposed to be their home.

"Because I belong here," Don said, ineffably sad. "And so do you."

"The only place I belong is a place where it don't smell so bad." Raph put an arm around Don's tense shoulders. "Come on. Come with me. At least talk to Leo and Master Splinter about it."

"About what? Moving out? Leaving this world for good?"

"Yeah."

Don hung his head. "I don't think this is the right thing to do."

"Master Splinter will know for sure. Let's go find out."

Donatello activated the portal stick and allowed Raph to pull him through the gateway. As soon as they emerged into the empty room Leo used to hold audiences, Raph strode purposefully towards the door, calling for someone to tell Leo they had arrived.

Don held back and tried not to look at the guard in the hall to find out if the disdain was still as bad as it had been before. He slipped away from Raph and found himself using all his best stealth skills to avoid being seen by unfriendly samurai. Without necessarily meaning to, his feet found their way to the inkhouse.

The guard out front clearly remembered him – and scowled darkly at him, but did not prevent him.

Don tried to ignore the glare aimed at his shell and tapped on the door. "Sensei?"

"Come in."

Donatello entered, surprised that his father's voice was weaker than it had been the last time they spoke. "Master Splinter? Are you okay?"

"Donatello, my son. I have not seen you for many days." Splinter was not sitting up against the cushions now, but rather was lying flat. His eyes seemed dull.

Don crossed the floor to kneel beside his father. "What happened? Is something wrong?"

"Yes. The healers think it is something of a relapse. Perhaps I woke too soon, perhaps I tried to do too much too quickly." He peered at his son. "You are troubled."

"I am _so_ troubled, father. You heard about the lair?"

"Yes. Leonardo informed me."

"Well, it's just...it's so gross and everything is out of control and now Raph wants to give up and just stay here and not work on it at all and...I don't know what to do."

"I can sympathize with Raphael's feelings. You bring with you a strong odor that I would not wish to live in, either."

Donatello blushed deeply with embarrassment.

Splinter's eyes wandered briefly and he sagged with exhaustion. "As with all things, Raphael likely needs time to quiet his feelings before he may address them correctly. Do not let it discourage you, my son."

"But I think he means it this time, Sensei. I think he's serious about not wanting to go back to New York at all!"

"If that were his decision, you must...respect it. He...must follow his heart...as must you."

Donatello was appalled at the weakness he heard in his father's voice. _He really must have had a bad relapse. I better let him rest._ "Okay, Master Splinter. Thank you for your help."

"I...my son...don't…" But sleep claimed him.

Don rose and bowed before he left the inkhouse, shutting the door softly behind himself. His thoughts were a strange jumble as he headed back to the keep to find Leo.

He met Raph on the way. "I talked to 'im," Raph said. "He wants to make sure you're okay with this."

Don nodded absently. When he made it to Leo's chamber, he was no longer surprised to see his brother seated as the Daimyo had been on that first day, imposing and regal in flowing robes.

But the smile was familiar. "Hey Donnie. I'm sorry about all this."

Don found himself kneeling before his brother – the very room seemed to demand it. "Leo, I'm...I'm not sure about all this. I...I don't like the idea of abandoning our home."

"Then don't," Leo said. "If we were human, we'd be old enough to be thinking about moving out, getting our own places. Going to some amazing college in your case." He smiled at his brother. "Right?"

Don swallowed around a dry throat. "I guess?"

"We're growing up. We need our own space. But that doesn't make us any less family and it doesn't mean we can't see each other all the time. Thanks to your brain, it's easy to get back and forth even if I'm too busy to use the magic."

Don nodded slightly.

"And actually, with Mikey pretty much living in Mitsu's village now, it's easier for you to find me than it is for him. I'm thinking about having Raph go check on him sometimes, or swing through if he wants to go back to patrolling the han for trouble. We'll all be a little far-flung, but it's not worse than us trying to move out like we would if we were human."

Don's heart was fluttering in his chest, engulfed in a cold ache, and a dark anxiety threatened to swallow him.

Leo frowned at the burgeoning panic he could see in his brother's expression. He broke from his proper place and moved to perch on one knee before Donatello.

"We're still Clan, Donnie. All of us. We're just putting some space between us. This is a good thing. We're becoming adults and we're finding our place in the world."

 _In the wrong world_ , Don's brain thought rebelliously.

But Leo's words were still even and confident. "Maybe with a little distance, we'll get along better. At least Mikey won't drive us all as crazy and Raph and I won't fight as much. I know it'll be a little lonely for you, but you can come by every day if you want. Or call Leatherhead. You could turn the whole lair into a giant lab like at his place, and nobody would be around to stop you."

Donatello felt a sharp pain in his throat and he had to gulp back a lump. "It's...it's happening so fast. Our family is falling apart, Leo."

"No we aren't," Leo assured him, gripping his shoulder tightly. "We're still family. No matter where we go. And I'm surprised you didn't see this coming."

"I did," Don admitted bitterly. "I just didn't want it to be true."

"It won't be that bad. Really. You'll get used to it. You might even like it. Imagine me not nagging you every morning to get up early. You can live with the schedule you like best. Imagine Mikey not breaking everything you make. Imagine Raph not stomping around in one of his moods."

 _Imagine waking up alone every morning. Imagine having to scavenge alone without anyone to watch my back. Imagine only being able to visit when I feel like dealing with a world full of contempt._ But he didn't dare say what he was thinking out loud. Leo's eyes were so entreating, so earnest, so hopeful.

 _He wants this. He wants to stay. And I'm the only reason he can't. If I give in, if we live in separate places, he can have what he wants._

 _This might be the only thing he's truly wanted for himself ever since he became our leader._

 _And Mikey can, too. Mikey will be able to stay with Mitsu._

 _Master Splinter will be able to live with better food and proper healers who can care for him._

 _Raph will...whatever Raph does, I guess. He might even come back in his own time. He's the only other one tempted by machines and technology._

Donatello took in a deep, shaky breath. "Life at best is bittersweet," he said, his voice not quite steady and it wasn't just from remembering the last words of one of his few human friends who was long gone.

"I know it's hard to accept change," Leo said gently, "but maybe this is for the best. For all of us. I think maybe this was always going to happen, that it was inevitable someday we'd separate. At least now we can do it comfortably."

Donatello couldn't bring himself to lie and agree, so he just closed his eyes and ducked his head. "It's hard for me to accept. I...don't want to be alone."

Leo moved his hand from Don's shoulder so he could pull him into a hug. "I know. But you won't be. I'll be a portal stick away, no farther than if you were in your lab and I was in the dojo. Once you get used to it, I think you'll see that this is the right move for all of us."

 _No. It isn't. It can't be._

But Don curled into the hug. "Okay. I'll...I'll try."

"I have faith in you. You're very strong. I'm sure you'll see I'm right in the end."

Donatello had no way to answer that, so he just accepted the hug and tried to imprint it on his mind. All too soon, Leo drew back.

"So, do you want to stay for dinner before you head back?"

Don could only shake his head. "No. But thanks. Maybe tomorrow. Right now, I think I need to work to clear my head."

Leo nodded. "Okay. But think about coming for a meal tomorrow. Please? I want to make sure you're really all right with this."

 _I'm not. I couldn't ever be all right with this_. But he only let out a shaky breath and said, "Okay."

Within minutes that passed too fast, Don was back in the lair.

Alone.

He gazed around the ruins that should have been a home. Walls were torn out, the ceiling was a mess, the smell still lingered in the air, and there were an endless list of things that needed to be cleaned or purged and replaced. It was as if a monster had come, spreading its slime and disease and spoiling everything that should have been.

Shattering the future they should have had.

 _It shouldn't have happened this way_ , Don thought, his mind almost numb and his heart stuttering with the sudden isolation of it. The sudden desertion.

But it had. And all he could do now was go forward.

Don lifted his head. "They are never coming back."

The words echoed soullessly in the tainted lair.

"They are never coming back. But I'm not alone. I can still go see them. We're still family. We're still Clan."

 _And maybe, with some time, I'll find a way to believe that._

-==OOO==-

End of Act 2

-==OOO==-


End file.
